Harry Gets Real
by Sogo
Summary: After being abandoned in New York by the Dursleys, Harry is found by the Ghostbusters. When he turns 11, he's not quite as eager to go to Hogwarts as one might think... But if nothing else, the year will certainly be interesting. Contains some exploration of magicks and magical American politics. Rated for language.
1. Prologue

**Hello all! This is in response to a lovely little challenge by Demonabyss, who wanted a story about a Harry who ain't afraid of no ghosts. I can't promise to hit all the points they raised, but hey, I'll do my best, and it should be pretty damn funny either way. No schedule to how I put these out, either, so sorry about that, but I do really want to finish it, so we'll see what happens.**

 **That being said, I don't own anything here. Enjoy!**

Prologue: In Which Harry is Adopted

When Grunnings Drills sent Vernon Dursley to New York to finalize several papers on a large sale, he was happy to bring his wife and son with him.

He was less happy to bring along his nephew. But even he couldn't justify leaving a four year old on his own for a week, so Harry found himself strapped into the car, plane, and taxi before they reached the hotel they'd be staying in.

Honestly, the trip wasn't very exciting. Harry was confined to the hotel room for the whole trip, but he did get to look out the window and see the incredible view while the Dursleys were out. That was pretty interesting.

All in all, it was a pretty quiet vacation…

Until, on the way back to the airport, all hell broke loose.

Because this was fucking _New York_.

 **HP/RGB**

"Gooper at 4 o'clock!"

Ray Stantz was forced to dive to the ground as a pair of proton streams shot over his head to wrap around the ghost behind him. "Hey! Watch where you're shooting those things!"

"Sorry, Ray," called Winston Zeddemore, even as he fought to hold the ghost in place.

Next to him, the one who had shouted, Peter Venkman, looked slightly sheepish. "My bad. Egon! We could use a trap over here!"

The final teammate, Egon Spengler, clambered over the cars on the bridge they were forced to all but shut down as they worked to clean up the infestation. "Here!"

With a practiced throw, the trap was thrown, opened, and after a moment, sealed, trapping the ghost inside.

"Clear!" Winston called, holstering his thrower.

Peter cupped his hands around his mouth. "We're all good, folks! You may resume normal activities!"

Ignoring the litany of profanity being thrown his way, Peter whistled cheerfully as he moseyed to the sidewalk, next to the Ecto-1, where the rest of the ghostbusters had congregated.

"That's it, right?" Ray asked Egon, who was fiddling with his ever present PKE meter. "I mean, there weren't any more calls, were there?"

"No, that was it," Winston agreed.

"You look awfully interested in that PKE meter, Egon," Peter said, waggling his eyebrows. "Something you want to tell us?"

"Yes, actually," Egon said with a frown, not looking up. "I'm picking up a strange residual reading. I think we should check it out before we go."

"Really?" Peter groaned. "Can't we just leave it? I was hoping to get a nap in today."

"If we don't, we might have another surge of ghosts here in a few weeks," Egon warned.

"So we come back in a few weeks," Peter said with a shrug. "Another paycheck for us." He shot a grin towards Ray and Winston. "And you guys say I have no planning skills."

"Not in this case, Peter," Ray said, shaking his head. "This place would still be under a ghost-free warranty."

"Damn it, I knew adding that clause in our contracts would come back to bite me," Peter moaned. "Okay, Egon. Weird readings. Lead on."

Egon did so, leading them all the way down the bridge before turning slightly off of it and coming underneath it. It was there that they found the boy.

It wasn't particularly cold out, but autumn was setting in and the t-shirt the kid was in clearly wasn't enough to keep him warm. He was curled up against one of the metal struts of the bridge, shivering.

Also, he looked to be about three.

Something was seriously wrong with this picture.

"Holy shit," Peter said as he realized the age of the kid. He leaned down. "Hey, kid, you alright?"

The boy looked up at the four and nodded hesitantly.

"What are you doing out here?" Winston asked. "Where are your folks?"

The boy looked confused at that.

"Your mom and dad?" Winston clarified after realizing the boy didn't recognize the term.

"Dead," the boy said softly.

The four exchanged a glance.

"Well, where do you live, kid?" Peter asked, squatting down so he was closer to eye level. "We can't just leave you here."

"My aunt and uncle did," the boy said softly. "They said I had to be causing the attack on the bridge. Because I'm a freak."

"That's just ridiculous," Ray said immediately, shaking his head. "No one can control ghost attacks, and your aunt and uncle would know that if they had any sense."

"Come on, kid, we'll take you to the firehouse," Winston decided. "We can at least get you cleaned up and a decent meal there."

"That's a terrible idea," Egon warned, still fiddling with the meter. "The firehouse is not safe for children. We're still not sure of the long term effects of ectoplasmic exposure, the containment unit currently holds enough spiritual energy to blow the entire east coast sky high, and I-"

He abruptly cut off, suddenly casting strange looks from the boy to the meter in his hands.

"Oh, no, don't stop now, Egon," Peter said dryly. "You were really on a roll there."

"I changed my mind. We definitely need to get him to the firehouse."

"Egon?" Ray asked.

"The residuals I'm picking up are coming from him. With that in mind, it's probably safer for him at the firehouse, where we can stop any complications."

"It's decided, then," Winston declared. He knelt. "Hey, do you have a name?"

"I'm Harry," the boy informed them.

"Nice to meet you, Harry," Ray said cheerfully as Winston picked the boy up. "We're going to go get something to eat. Would you like that?"

Harry nodded slowly.

None of them had any idea exactly how much this would change all of their lives.

 **HP/RGB**

Egon had never been good with children. Really, he was extraordinarily _bad_ with children. It wasn't out of any malicious intent, he just didn't tend to remember to censor himself when it came to bad news and his bedside manner in general was rather abhorrent.

Which was why Ray was sticking close as Egon ran his tests.

"This is fascinating," Egon said as he stared at the readout on the screen. "I've never seen anything quite like it."

"So I am a freak?" Harry asked.

He was currently perched on a stool with a metal helmet that looked more like pasta strainer than anything else perched on his head. He was also clutching a stuffed toy-a small Stay Puft Marshmallow Man Ray had pulled from his bed. **(1)**

No one had bothered to comment on the fact that Ray still had a stuffed toy.

At Harry's question, Ray smacked Egon upside the head. Egon let out a sharp, "Ow!"

"That's not what he means, Harry," Ray said quickly. "It just means you're… unique."

"It's not actually him I'm referring to," Egon corrected, shooting Ray a glare. "Harry, you have what appears to be a partial possession taking up residence in your scar."

Harry blinked. "I… I what?"

"He means that there's a ghost in your head," Ray explained. "Which we should probably fix. Egon? Any plans?"

"I have a few," Egon explained. He stood, pushing himself back from the computer. "Harry, you may want to set your stuffed toy down."

Harry looked disappointed, but slowly placed the toy down and stood up from the stool. He removed the helmet and set it next to the toy.

"You can have it back in a minute," Egon said quickly, noticing Ray's look. He turned to pick up a device from one of the tables behind him. "I just didn't think you'd want to be holding it for this."

"For what?" Harry and Ray asked simultaneously.

Their answer came as Egon turned around and fired what at first glance appeared to be a weapon at Harry. But instead of any small projectiles, a wave of pinkish yellow tinged slime emerged from the barrel. **(2)**

Within the span of a second, Harry was drenched.

He coughed as Egon turned the device off, before yelling and clamping his hands to his head as a black smoke rose from his scar. Ray was quick to react, snatching a trap from another table (they'd learned enough to keep those laying all over the firehouse), pointing it at the smoke, and activating it.

"Got it," he cheered as the light cut off. "Harry, are you alright?"

Harry took his slime covered glasses off and blinked. "...Yes?"

"Excellent," Egon said, placing the sliming gun back on the table. "Now let's get you cleaned off. I want to do one more scan to make sure we've gotten every-"

The door slammed open, and Peter and Winston stood in the doorway.

"We heard yelling," Winston said. "Is everything alright?"

"Geez, Egon, if you were just going to slime the squirt, couldn't you have had Slimer do it for you?" Peter asked, taking in the slime covered Harry.

"I'm not sure that would have worked," Egon said cautiously. "The psycho-reactive slime here was able to amplify Harry's own emotional waves to force the partial possessor out, and-"

"Nevermind, I'm sorry I asked," Peter decided.

"It was so cool!" Ray enthused.

"So, you've been slimed," Peter said to Harry. "Welcome to the club."

That made Harry smile. He couldn't hold it back, and really the guys were so welcoming, even if Egon was a little stiff.

"I'll take him to the shower," Winston decided, shaking his head, and holding a hand out to Harry. "This way, little buddy."

Harry hurried after.

"I'm going to take some scans of this thing," Egon decided, taking the trap from Ray. "I'm not sure what it is, but I don't like the look of it."

 **HP/RGB**

Harry sort of… settled in over the next couple days. Janine had taken to him immediately, as had Slimer.

It was while he was studying the spirit that had come out of Harry, trying to nail down exactly what it was, that Egon had his epiphany.

Dropping everything, he snatched his PKE meter and ran to find Harry. He took a quick scan, on a different frequency than he normally looked at, and, upon finding what he'd suspected, immediately ran to find Ray.

Harry was left blinking and holding a popsicle in his hand, watching Egon running off. He glanced towards Slimer, who floated next to him, three popsicles in each hand.

"...That's normal, right?"

" _Eh_ ," Slimer commented, making a so-so motion.

"Right. You know, I kind of like him."

" _Egon nice_ ," Slimer agreed, before swallowing three of his popsicles, sticks and all.

Meanwhile, Egon had found Ray.

"Ray!" he shouted. "Ray, you won't _believe_ this! Harry's magical!"

Ray looked up in surprise from where he was reading a copy of _Spates Catalog_ on the couch in front of the television. "Is he? Well, we'll have to get him registered with the covens, then." **(3)**

"Ray, _think_ about it! We have a boy named Harry with black hair, green eyes, and glasses. His parents are dead. He's magical. And, most damning, _he had a partial soul stuck in a lightning bolt scar on his forehead!_ "

Ray nearly dropped the book. "You don't think?!" He shot up. "There's no way! We would have heard something out of Britain by now!"

"Unless they weren't paying attention to him," Egon said.

"But… but Egon, there were signs of neglect! There's no way that he'd-"

"Ray, it makes sense! We've got to at least follow up on this!"

Ray shook his head. "Yes… yes, you're right. I'll contact my aunt, see what she knows. She keeps tabs on the European stuff."

"I'm going to contact my family," Egon decided. "My mother knows people back in Britain. She might be able to figure out how the hell he ended up abandoned in New York."

"We should get Peter to put out some feelers, too," Ray agreed.

"Are you sure we want to extend those feelers?" Egon asked slowly.

"It should be fine," Ray said, waving a hand. "And we need information. Does Janine have any contacts?"

"Just her coven," Egon said slowly. "I'll have her check. And I think Winston has magical cousins."

"Right. We'll figure this out," Ray decided. "In fact, I'll call Aunt Lois right now!"

Egon watched him go. "...but we haven't figured out how a _partial soul_ got stuck in Harry's _scar_."

 **HP/RGB**

A meeting was convened after Harry had gone to bed.

"So, what have you guys found?" Peter asked.

"I got that Harry was sent to live with family after his parents were killed," Egon informed them. "The wills of his parents were sealed. His godfather is apparently in prison for mass murder."

"I got a tip off that's a bust," Peter added. "But who knows, really?"

"Aunt Lois says that the guy who killed Harry's parents might not be all dead," Ray added. "There are some theorists… They think he's made _horcruxes_."

"What are those?" Winston asked.

"Bad news," Peter said firmly. "Like _bad_ bad news."  
"They're soul receptacles," Egon explained. "They contain a portion of the soul so when the physical body is killed, the soul remains anchored to the physical plain. It certainly would explain why we found a partial soul in Harry's scar. The practice has been traced back as far as-"

"Thank you for the history lesson, Egon, but I don't think we need one," Peter spoke up.

"Yeah, I get that splitting your soul is a bad idea, but there's something more to it than that, isn't there?" Winston asked.

"Yes," Egon agreed. "To split one's soul, one has to commit an act of cold blooded murder. Hence Peter's they're bad, bad news."

"I got nothing, but most of my coven are first generation magicals anyways," Janine said with a shrug.

"And my cousins were less than forth coming," Winston agreed. "You know we've never really gotten along."

"So, not as much information as we'd like," Peter mused, scratching his chin. "Well, what are we going to do with him? He's a national hero, we can't just throw him to the dogs."

"He's also four," Winston added, glaring at Peter.

"That too," Peter agreed.

"I say we keep him here," Janine suggested. "Goodness knows you guys would be better for him than some ass who wants to use him."

"Yeah, that's a great idea!" Ray enthused. "We can teach him magic and all sorts of ghostbusting!"

"I don't know," Egon said slowly. "I'm not sure this would be the safest option for Harry. What is he going to do while we're out on busts? Especially ones in the middle of the night? We can't just leave him alone."

"Well, maybe I should move in, then," Janine offered. "I could take that room off the lab. It'd be cheaper than continuing to rent my apartment, anyways."

"Maybe we should renegotiate your salary, then," Peter said with a grin. "I mean, if you're going to be working for room and board-"

"Stop it before I hurt you, Dr. V.," Janine snapped.

"I think it'd be cool to raise Harry," Winston said slowly. "Good practice for if any of us ever manage to have kids."

"Ah, what the hell," Peter said with a shrug. "I kinda like the little squirt. And the spud's taken a shine to him, too."

"That just leaves you, Egon," Ray said, looking towards the blond, who was staring straight ahead and not saying anything.

In fact, Egon's mind had short circuited somewhere around Janine's suggestion to move in. Ray hid a snicker as he kicked Egon's foot.

"Wha-? I-" Egon shook his head, trying to clear it. "This sounds like a brilliant idea."

It really may not have been.

 **HP/RGB**

As it turned out, the ghostbusters were, as a general rule, _really really irresponsible_. **(4)**

This led to moments of both danger and amusement. And sometimes both.

Harry was given his first proton pack when he turned five, and Janine had just about thrown a fit. (She did threaten to make all the guys sleep on the couch for a week. When Ray had pointed out they only had one couch, she'd snapped that that was _their_ problem.)

Egon had ended up telling Harry the whole story about how his parents were murdered when Harry was six. He'd also mentioned casually how there was an excellent chance the dark wizard was still out there, and that he was probably targeting Harry, before going on and explaining what horcruxes were.

That actually _had_ earned him a week on the couch and a long lecture from Janine (with occasional barbs from Peter, Winston, and Ray). Egon wasn't good with children, but the hope was that with enough yelling, he'd eventually get there.

It was no surprise, really, that Harry had eventually started calling Janine "Mum Janine". When he'd first called her this, Janine had hugged him tightly and cried about a minute.

That was also the moment the others realized that the title "dad" was probably also up for grabs.

What followed would go down in history as one of the funniest weeks of Harry's life as the four tried to compete for the title without Harry realizing exactly what they were doing. In fact, Janine informed him exactly what was going on in the minds of the men after the first day, so instead he just sat back and enjoyed the chaos.

The officially-non-official-competition-for-Harry's-love came to a close after Harry finally called all of them " _Dads!_ " in an exasperated tone. Following that, each had gained the title "Papa", and were quite pleased with the compromise.

Slimer didn't gain a title, but he was really okay with that.

And so things continued, in the slightly mad manner they always did, until about Harry's eleventh birthday.

 **A/N:**

 **(1) Yes, Ray actually has this. As does Slimer. Though I half think he stole it from Ray. It does get passed back a forth quite a bit.**

 **(2) Okay, so in the movie, the mood slime was pink. And in RGB, it was yellow. (They used it in the episode "Partners in Slime", where Peter coats himself with it to disguise himself as a ghost. It... doesn't really work.) So I've kind of combined the two.**

 **(3) A reference book mentioned in the movie, when discussing where to check up on Zuul in.**

 **(4) No, seriously. They are** ** _really, REALLY_** **irresponsible. Possibly most noticeable in the episode "Three Men and an Egon", where Egon starts aging backwards. So they take a kid who barely fits into a uniform out to bust a ghost. And yeah, Peter has to wrench the proton pack away from him, but they leave him alone in an alley with a ghost trap to trap the ghost when they chase it in there. And then act all surprised when he gets distracted by a stray cat. And that's not even getting into what happens when he reaches infancy.**

 **So, our story begins! I have a couple chapters written, so I'll be posting them before too long, and the rest as I get them done. Please review if you like it! (Seriously, I'm not quite sure where this is going, so I'd love ideas.) Thanks so much!**


	2. Chapter 1

**Wow, I'm so glad people actually like this! (More so that people are actually reading it. Thanks!)**

 **Just a few little notes before we begin.**

 **First off, (most of you probably already know this, but I'm just going to say it again because I can) magic is totally RGB cannon. There are numerous episodes where characters use magical solutions to save the day. That's why I ended up making all the Ghostbusters magical. (I was trying to keep as many non-magical as possible, but apparently everybody uses magic... Mostly Ray and (ironically) Egon. Peter became magical because I found the idea of a magical Venkman family too good to pass up (Is there some siren blood in there?), and I was going to have Janine be a squib, but as she actually uses magic in the episode "Short Stuff", I ended up making her a first generation witch instead. Ray's magical (obviously) as is his whole family, as a bit of a tribute to Dan Aykroyd, who came from a family that believes in it all. Egon comes from a magical family, because his family has been shown to have a history of magic, with Zedekiah and Eli Spengler. (On a not completely unrelated note, I have to point out that the "witch" they face in the episode "If I Were a Witch Man", is stated to actually be a demon that must possess people to have a form-she is not an actual witch.) Winston, because of his dislike of magic, ended up as the only non magical one, though he has magical ancestory, as pointed out in the episode "Moaning Stones". So he has magical cousins and ties to the magical world, but doesn't like to interact with it.)**

 **Woo, that ended up longer than I meant.**

 **Fact 2: I am including an OC. She will be playing a large role in this story. I didn't want to, but frankly, I** ** _need_** **her to play a specific role on Harry's Ghostbusting team. Harry's assembling a new team (eventually, not right away) based on the original, and therefore needs four players, a brain, a heart, a mouth, and the common sense. Harry may have been raised by geniuses, but even working hard and learning from them, he's not a genius. And no one he meets at Hogwarts would be able to alter proton packs on the fly, or fix a PKE meter. I needed someone who could, and I worked very,** ** _very_** **hard to not have her be a Mary Sue. To that end, we still focus very much on Harry, and I hope that's okay.**

 **Okay, I think that's pretty much everything for now. I own nothing. Enjoy!**

Chapter 1: In Which Dumbledore Assumes and We Meet Cousin Evie

It was not most near eleven year olds' first reaction to try and shoot an owl coming towards you bearing a letter with a powerful proton stream.

Then again, Harry had never been most near eleven year olds.

And, to be honest, a flying form bearing down on him from above while he was in the middle of assisting his fathers on a bust did bring to mind a ghost.

It was a good thing he missed.

The owl, clearly mortally offended by Harry's reaction, dropped the letter on his face and wheeled off.

"Sorry!" Harry shouted after it. "I thought you were something else!"

Unfortunately for both Harry and the letter, the real ghost popped out a second later and shot a stream of fire at the boy.

Harry ducked the fire. The letter wasn't so lucky. It was incinerated.

"Hey!" Harry shouted, firing his thrower. "I think that was a birthday card, you gooper! There could have been money in there!"

Yes, Harry was certainly a product of his environment. And after several years, he'd dropped most of his British accent, as well.

Moments later, an angry Harry was stalking away from the scene with a steaming trap. He hoped whatever was in that letter wasn't too important.

 **HP/RGB**

Across the pond, Albus Dumbledore noted that Harry Potter's letter had been destroyed before he could read it.

"Hm. The Dursleys must be being difficult," the elderly wizard mused. "Well, we'll just have to send another."

 **HP/RGB**

"Mr. H. Potter, the corner bedroom, Ghostbusters' firehouse, Manhattan, New York City, New York, United States of America," Harry read off. The envelope of the new letter he'd just received from another owl was surprisingly detailed, but because of the lack of information on the firehouse, probably wouldn't have ever made it to him in non-magical mail.

He flipped the letter over to see an unfamiliar crest stamped in wax on the other side. He slid a nail under the wax, about to crack it open, when-

" _Hawwy come eat now!"_

"Eeaugh!" Harry yelped, jerking back as Slimer's face seemed to emerge from the letter. This had the unintended side effect of completely sliming it, rendering it unreadable. " _Slimer!_ "

" _Sowwy Hawwy,_ " Slimer said, pulling the green coated envelope out of his neck. He offered the paper to him, but Harry just shook his head.

"Don't bother," he sighed. "Funny thing is, it looks just like another letter I got not too long ago. I wonder if they'll send another one."

Slimer made a noise that was half apology, half confusion as Harry pinched the letter between two fingers and gingerly placed it in the trash bin.

Then he realized that in order to pop out through his letter, Slimer had to have come through the surface below him. And he had been sitting on his bed.

Which now had a large dark stain in the center.

" _Damn it_ , Slimer!"

 **HP/RGB**

Dumbledore frowned as Harry's second letter went unread. "Hm. The Dursleys must be more against magic than I previously believed. Ah, well, I'm sure that the third time's the charm."

 **HP/RGB**

Harry again read the envelope as he headed down the basement steps, towards the containment unit. In his other hand, he held a still smoking ghost trap.

Unfortunately, reading and walking downstairs is rarely a good combination. Harry ended up tripping rather spectacularly and falling the last few steps.

On the trap.

Opening it.

Pandemonium ensued.

Later, Harry would admit to being rather proud of himself for recapturing the ghost so quickly. He didn't even mention what had happened to his fathers, and nothing had really been damaged except for a small scorch mark on one of the walls.

Oh, yeah, and he'd also toasted the letter. That wasn't really an issue, though. After so many identical ones, he was pretty sure it was just some sort of ad.

 **HP/RGB**

So, someone had burned this letter as well, Dumbledore mused. (That wasn't really what had happened, but his magical quill that recorded reasons for letters going unread had never heard of protonic reversal. Fire was about as close as it got.)

With a frown, Dumbledore cast a quick spell to send several letters the next time. Surely one of them would get to the boy.

 **HP/RGB**

"What the hell kind of ghost possesses a mailbox?" Harry demanded, panting heavily as he leaned against the wall of the firehouse.

He thought for a moment. "Better question. What hell kind of idiot ghost possesses the _Ghostbusters'_ mailbox?"

"Clearly an idiot ghost," Peter shot back cheerfully. "Oh, look a bill that didn't get roasted." He quickly fired a short burst at the only remaining piece of mail. "If Janine asks, you didn't see that."

 **HP/RGB**

This was getting ridiculous, Dumbledore thought. There was no way a letter from the next grouping wasn't getting through.

 **HP/RGB**

Harry walked in the door to find Janine scolding Slimer.

"I just bought those eggs, Slimer! You didn't even wait for them to be cooked!"

" _Tasted funny_ ," Slimer mumbled.

"Of course they did! You ate them whole, shells and all!"

" _Not feel so good…_ "

 **HP/RGB**

Another swarm was sent.

 **HP/RGB**

"What is it supposed to do this time?" Harry asked curiously, prodding at the machine. **(1)**

"It's supposed to take large scale PKE readings of the city and indicate points of origin of each," Egon said calmly, standing at the control panel.

"Oh." Harry tilted his head as he regarded the machine that seemed to have a different purpose every week. No one was entirely sure what it was at any given time… Unless you were Egon.

"Now, the some of the components are rather delicate, and I think you standing over there might raise the temperature just enough to cause catastrophic failure," Egon warned. "Regardless, I'd feel better if you came over here instead." He started up the machine.

Harry, however, frowned. "If they're temperature sensitive, then why are there heating coils so close by?"

Egon looked up in surprise. "What?" He hurried over to look. "Oh… Fuc-"

The explosion was enough to send both flying backwards, out into the hall. It also incinerated the group of letters flying in through the window. Neither Egon or Harry noticed this.

"Egon?" Ray asked, poking his head out of his workshop. "What happened?"

"You tried to turn my delicate instrument of science into a toaster," Egon said flatly. "Again."

"It wasn't a _toaster_ , exactly…" Ray tried.

"Well, it certainly provided an excellent exothermic reaction, regardless," Egon stated, adjusting his glasses as Peter came up behind them.

"An excellent what?" Peter asked.

Harry grinned widely, despite the smudges on his face, and spoke the next line in unison with Egon.

"It blew up real good."

 **HP/RGB**

...This went on for a while.

 **HP/RGB**

When the entire firehouse became bombarded with a massive horde of flying letters, the first thought was, " _Possession!"_

It wasn't, of course, but that didn't stop all the firehouse's inhabitants from taking their throwers to them. It was half an hour before the storm finally died down, and, upon seeing the unburned letters on the ground, Ray finally opened one, more out of curiousity than anything else.

"Hey, guys! We weren't attacked by a class seven possessor!" Ray called. "It's just a letter trying to get Harry to attend Hogwarts!"

"That magic school in the UK?" Peter asked, blasting a group of letters.

"Yeah," Ray agreed.

Winston had opened his own copy. "Uh, Ray, this doesn't look like a typical invitation letter. This looks like he's already going."

"Well, he's not," Egon said firmly.

"Right," Ray agreed. "Hogwarts is a joke when it comes to magical theory. They only really teach the wanded magics, you know?"

"Not at all," Winston reminded.

"Well, we'd better send them a rejection letter then, shouldn't we?" Peter asked, moving to Janine's desk and shoving several still burning letters to the floor. "Anyone have any clue how to contact these weirdos?"

"They like owls," Egon said.

"What? Why?" Peter demanded, finally locating a paper and pen. "That's stupid."

"So are most British magicals," Egon agreed.

"Definitely don't want to go to Hogwarts," Harry spoke up. He was having much more fun being home schooled, even with a rather eclectic subject matter. "There's no logic to them whatsoever."

Egon tried and failed to hide his grin. "Indeed. And there's that dark wizard as well. Even _we_ aren't that irresponsible."

 **HP/RGB**

When Dumbledore received the rejection letter, he scowled. He'd known the Dursleys were ignoring the letters, but to actually try and say _no_ …

He immediately scrapped all plans for Hagrid to collect Harry and decided he'd go himself. It was a simple check to see the address Harry was staying at.

New York? Curious. Perhaps the Dursleys had fled there to get away from his letters. It was rather illegal to just jump over there without going through the proper channels, but…

He made a portkey.

And activated it.

That was a mistake.

As soon as he landed, he heard a shout, and then a piercing alarm rang through the air. Before he could really react, there were men in front of him, pointing unusual weapons at him.

Muggles, clearly. He raised his wand…

Only to be taken aback as the blond man gestured a finger and snapped, " _Alka_!" **(2)**

Dumbledore's wand leapt from his hand to land in the hand of the man who'd cast. These people were magical? But how had the man cast wandlessly? And what sort of spell was that?

The red head in the group made a motion with his empty hand. " _Nusku Kalu_!" **(3)**

Ropes burst into existence, and Dumbledore found himself falling to the ground, trussed up and helpless.

"Can we blast him?" the brown haired man asked. "Just a little?"

"As much as I'm tempted, Peter, _no_ ," the blond said firmly. He glanced to the red head thoughtfully, twirling the stolen wand in his fingers. "I'd say definitely a British magical. Here illegally if the fact that he's here without warning is any indication."

The redhead nodded, shrugging the heavy metal pack off of his shoulders. "I'll be back." He headed up the staircase.

"Man, I hate it when they're physical," the one called Peter groaned. "No blasting. We have to be responsible and shit."

"Peter…" the dark skinned one warned.

"Hey, if Harry's not here, I'm not gonna bother watching my language okay?"

Dumbledore broke in. He may have been caught off guard, but he wasn't about to let these strange men continue to control the situation.

"Do you have any idea who I am?"

"Nope," the brown haired one said cheerfully. "Don't much care, either. Anyone who bursts in without warning, scaring the shit out of our secretary, and then tries to attack us gets the same treatment, man, ghost, or god."

"...God?"

The man didn't answer his question, instead going on. "Now, we're not really sure what you want with us, but rest assured, you're not going to be getting it. We've been attacked by goopers a lot more dangerous than you, and we're not-"

"Peter, he's not a ghost," the blond reminded. "Though we do have to talk about entrances. He's made an illegal portkey-"

"Ooh, that's naughty," the brown haired one said, though his voice was more mischievous than angry. "Bad wizard."

"Peter, please stop provoking the angry, powerful wizard," the blond said, voice flat, though his eyes were glinting with amusement.

"I am Albus Dumbledore," Dumbledore said, voice starting to pick up a bit of anger. "I am the Supreme Mugwump of the ICW-"

"Is he serious right now?" the dark skinned man asked.

"Very," the blond agreed. "Unfortunately for Mister Dumbledore, the ICW has no jurisdiction in America. We were offered membership in 1945, at the end of the second world war, but politely declined."

The dark skinned man seemed surprised. "Really? But didn't non-magical America join the UN right about then?"

"Yes, but you have to understand, it was in significantly different positions," the blond continued. "For non-magical America, the war ended with them in prime position to take the lead on the world stage. However, on the magical side, Britain was the one to deal the final blow."

"Basically, if they couldn't boss everyone around, they didn't want to play," the brown haired one finished with a grin. "Like a spoiled brat. That sounds about right."

At that moment, the redhead returned, flanked by a pair of men in dark suits.

"That's him," the redhead said, pointing at Dumbledore. "I think he was a bit taken aback by us, but then again, everyone is."

"Only you guys," sighed one of the men, shaking his head. He walked over to pull Dumbledore to his feet. "Alright, smart guy, we're going to have to take you in and ask you a few questions."

"Wait! You can't do this to me! I'm-!"

"Clearly a little soft in the head if you just tried to bust into one of the most well protected properties in New York. Jameson?"

The other man held up a trigger, depressed a button, and they were gone.

 **HP/RGB**

It took a while before they were able to piece together the whole story.

Dumbledore had placed Harry with his relatives in the hopes that the blood protection he received there would keep him safe from the apparently-definitely-not-dead Voldemort. This had not worked out as he'd hoped.

Harry had been honestly surprised to find out that Dumbledore had been trying to contact him for so long. But when he thought about it, that made a lot of rather bizarre things make sense.

Regardless, Harry had no intentions of going to Hogwarts. He was happy being home schooled with the promise of eventually becoming a ghostbuster.

But all six of them (Slimer told to stay home (and threatened with the observation box if he didn't) **(4)** ) did agree to hear the headmaster out. So they came into the government building to listen.

"Harry must attend Hogwarts," was the first thing Dumbledore said when they walked in.

"Not happening," Peter said immediately, flopping down in one of the provided chairs. "Also, Winston, you owe me ten bucks."

Winston glared at the headmaster. "Couldn't even wait for the damned greetings."

Janine smacked him upside the head. "I _know_ I've told you to watch your language!"

"Ah, it's fine, Janine, Harry's heard it all before," Peter said dismissively.

"Harry must attend Hogwarts," Dumbledore repeated.

"Winston, you now owe me _fifteen_ bucks."

"God _damn_ it!"

" _WINSTON!_ "

Harry snickered.

"You don't understand!" Dumbledore tried again. "Harry must attend Hogwarts! The dark lord is not dead!"

"Of course not," Egon agreed, sitting next to Peter. "After all, a piece of him is sitting up in my lab."

Dumbledore stared at him, mouth hanging slightly open.

Egon raised an eyebrow. "You didn't think _we_ wouldn't notice the extra soul in Harry's scar? You do know who we are, don't you?"

"I'm afraid not," Dumbledore admitted.

One of the guards actually snickered at that.

"We're the Ghostbusters," Ray said proudly. "We capture and contain malevolent spirits. And occasionally other entities."

"You know, the usual," Peter said, smirking. "Sandman. Boogeyman. Old ones. Gods."

"As you might suspect, Hogwarts is rather limited in magical theory compared to what Harry is learning," Egon said. "We'd prefer to teach him everything we can."

"But there… there is a prophecy!" Dumbledore tossed out, getting desperate.

There was a moment of silence.

"God _damn_ it," Janine hissed.

"What sort of prophecy?" Ray demanded. "What kind of reading? What wording?"

"I cannot tell you," Dumbledore said firmly. "Only that Harry must be at Hogwarts to learn under me."

"Bull," Peter snorted. "Ray and Egon took you down in under ten seconds."

"...It states that only Harry can defeat the dark lord," Dumbledore admitted grudgingly. "And the dark lord will target Harry when he inevitably returns."

Ray rubbed his chin. "When you say 'return'-"

Winston stepped on his foot. "Not the time, Ray."

"You know, it occurs to me that Harry, with his training, may be uniquely situated to defeat this dark lord," Egon said slowly.

"One moment," Ray said, holding up a finger. He flicked it toward Dumbledore. " _Nusku Nisme Seheru!_ " **(5)**

Dumbledore blinked, before tapping at his ear, realizing he'd been temporarily deafened.

"Okay, Egon, go ahead."

"I'm just saying, Harry has a lot of experience dealing with dangerous ghosts, of which this Voldemort currently is," Egon said with a shrug.

"I suppose I do want to help people," Harry said slowly, speaking for the first time. "And he did kill my parents."

"So you want to go?" Peter asked.

Harry just shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe?"

"I think you're all forgetting the cardinal rule," Winston broke in, holding up a finger. There were ten rules of Ghostbusting, never to be broken. Rule number one was the most important one… but that didn't mean that they hadn't all probably broken it at least once. It also didn't mean they were about to let Harry do so.

"Never Ghostbust alone," all six said together.

"Hey, what if we all de-aged ourselves and went with Harry?" Peter asked. "That might be kind of fun. We could totally pull off kids."

"Maybe we could, but we can't leave New York unguarded," Ray pointed out.

"Besides, magic can't de-age people, Peter," Egon argued. "And believe me, that is not from a lack of trying."

"Says the guy who got de-aged into a baby by a clock ghost," Peter said snidely.

" _That never happened!_ " **(6)**

Eager to head off the coming fight, Harry blurted out the first thing that came into his head. He would later remark that it was simply a moment of pure brilliance on his part, and he'd put enormous amount of thought into it.

"What about Cousin Evie?"

 **HP/RGB**

Evanna Spengler was indeed a sort of cousin to Harry. They'd only met a few times, and Harry's impression of her was that she was a lot like her Uncle, Egon. Slightly standoffish and utterly brilliant.

Like him, Evie had inherited the family intelligence. She may have had a below average magical ability, but it was said amongst the family that all the extra had been used up in her mind. She was a child prodigy, only three months older than Harry, and already attending Miskatonic University, studying daemonology.

The first time they'd met, they'd both been five, and Evie had declared that she was definitely going to become a ghostbuster someday. Harry had seen no problem with that, and told her she could handle all the technology.

Evie thought that was a brilliant idea, and told him he could handle all the people.

The years that passed did not dissuade either of them from this course of action. It was only the fact that they rarely saw each other that stopped them from forming their own team.

Yes, Evanna would be a perfect companion to accompany Harry… if only she would agree to it.

 **HP/RGB**

Harry dialed Evie's number.

"Hey, Evie? We're gonna get to become ghostbusters, no supervision! Only problem is that we both have to attend a not so great magic school in Scotland for a while."

It was really a sign of what was to come that Evie didn't even blink.

"Okay, when do we leave?"

 **HP/RGB**

There turned out to be a bit more to it than that, but Evie was immediately convinced for the chance to become a full fledged ghostbuster sooner than she had originally thought. She'd honestly been planning it for a while-even once building a small prototype proton gun in her room.

(The gun had been mounted, so there was little mobile capabilities, and the thing had exploded after a single use, but as she had been six at the time and it hadn't exploded until _after_ taking a chunk out of the Boogeyman's ear, she was pretty damn proud of the whole thing. (And the Boogeyman decided around then that he _really_ disliked Spenglers, as a general rule.))

So then it was only a matter of convincing her parents, who weren't as hard to convince as one might expect, knowing Evanna was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. So long as she continued her lessons at Miskatonic online **(7)** , they had no real arguments.

There was a moment of confusion at the realization that most electronics didn't work on Hogwarts grounds, but Egon and Ray had both been talented when it came to technomancy, even if that wasn't their first choice when it came to magics. Evie and Harry were both excited as they were shown the basic runic schematic that would protect the equipment they'd be taking from magical overload.

Evie especially. Runes were her specialty. Egon was best as verbal casting (though dabbled in almost everything else), and Ray at rituals (though he did the same as Egon). Peter was good at magical contracts and had developed some very nasty penalties for those who tried to break them, as well as a frightening affinity for divination despite not using it often. Janine had some talents at runes, but wasn't particularly good.

Harry hadn't found just what his favorite was yet, though he'd dabbled slightly in several areas, just learning the theory.

Then, with the safety of the equipment taken care of, it was up to Peter to make sure Harry and Evie would be safe.

In a long sit down with Dumbledore, Peter had haggled and threatened and flat out lied to get him to agree to the contract he had. Harry and Evie would be exempted from most school rules. They would only have to attend the classes they felt like. (Evie in particular was cheered by this. Her focus casting was _abysmal_.) Any punishments demanded would have to be run by the guys before being carried out.

Yes, it was ridiculous. But the guys held all the cards, and both they and Dumbledore knew it. Harry had been offered citizenship almost immediately after formally becoming the ward of the Ghostbusters and therefore Dumbledore and Britain had no claim over him whatsoever, not even as the head of the ICW.

Peter was able to wrangle a few other concessions out of Dumbledore before they signed the contract and Harry and Evie were both officially students of Hogwarts.

It would be an interesting year.

 **HP/RGB**

Despite being from out of the country, it was really a simple matter to get to Diagon Alley to pick up school supplies. While much of what was on their list could be and was bought stateside at the closest magical shopping center, they would still need to get their robes and wands from the British one.

Harry had been surprised to find it so easy, until Peter had sat down and explained the politicking behind it.

"See, Harry, you know that America never joined the ICW because they knew they wouldn't end up at the head of it?" Peter asked.

Harry nodded.

"Well, basically, they see you as their way of getting there. You're pretty much a national icon in Britain, and to have you choose America over Britain is a huge blow to Britain. It's not something you need to worry about, just know that we're keeping an eye on things and if anything starts looking bad, we'll take care of it."

They could, too. So Harry stopped worrying and focused back on this school.

 **HP/RGB**

Finding Diagon Alley was a little tricky. Egon and Ray ended up being the ones to take them, mostly because Ray loved any chance to explore magical things and Egon was the most responsible besides Winston, who wasn't magical, but also because the names Spengler and Stantz were both well known throughout Europe, even in the insular Britain.

Humorously, both were also thought of as typically 'dark' by the British ministry's definition.

The Stantz family was known for ritual casting and their knowledge when it came to occult studies, both things the ministry disliked. Rituals had long since fallen out of use due to potential disasters associated with them, and no one like to think on the fact that there were beings and entities out there with more power than they themselves.

Similarly, the Spengler family was known for its eccentricity amongst the members, and that they would research anything. _Anything_. It was research into necromancy that had chased the last Spengler who'd come to Britain out of the country (about a century ago), despite the fact that the man had never actually performed any necromantic magics and was in fact researching for a way to reverse such spells.

The eccentricity was that they tended to approach magic as a branch of science. Egon even had an uncle who'd written a well researched book entitled "The Science of Magic". It had been banned in the British Isles.

Finding the Leaky Cauldron was easy, it was accessing Diagon that was harder. Ray ended up studying the stones he knew they were supposed to get through for several minutes, all of them trying to figure out how to access the alley with no magical focus.

Finally, Egon had rolled his eyes, gestured at the wall and declared, " _Petu_." **(8)**

The Sumerian word had the gate practically jumping open as the magic overrode the simple spell blocking the way. That was when Harry got his first look at Diagon Alley.

He stared. Not for the magic, or people bustling through, but for the fact that it all looked like something right out of the middle ages.

"This is…"

Evie twisted her lip in disgust. "Archaic. Let's get our things and get out of here."

They ventured into the alley.

(What the four hadn't noticed was that the gate was still open behind them. It would take the ministry several hours to find a way to re-close it.)

"Well, where should we start?" Ray asked curiously, looking excited.

"Let's get the foci out of the way first," Harry offered. "Then the uniform, and then we can check out the book shops before heading out."

"And perhaps a quick nip into Knockturn Alley as well," Egon offered. "They might have some actually interesting books there."

Ray lit up. "Yeah, that sounds great!"

"We still have to exchange our money at the bank," Evie reminded. She still looked displeased with her surroundings. "Though why these fools insist on their own unique currency I will never understand."

Magical America used the same currency as the non-magical side. It made life so much easier.

Gringotts Bank was on the other side of the alley, but the alley was rather small all things considered. It only took about ten minutes to reach the other side. They entered the large white stone building with little fuss.

After Harry had become an American citizen, all his holdings had been transferred across the pond. So the visit would require only a stop at the exchange booth.

Upon reaching that booth, to the surprise of pretty much everyone, Egon greeted the teller in flawless Gobbledegook, before continuing on to request the exchange in the same language.

Harry could only pick up a few words. Languages were not his strong suit.

Ray looked more amused than anything else. "One of these days, I'm going to find a language Egon doesn't speak."

"Do you think you can cast in Gobbledegook?" Evie asked, her face thoughtful.

"No idea. I don't think many people know the language well enough to try."

In order to become a verbal caster, one had to master an uncommon language, the older the better. Egon and Ray had ended up learning together, picking Sumerian. Egon was better at it than Ray, who still had to use the incantation word before any spells.

"It's still in use, so maybe not," Evie mused.

Ray shrugged. "It's certainly old enough, though. I'll ask Egon later."

Egon finished haggling at the booth, and stepped away with a heavy bag of coins. "Perhaps Peter could have gotten a better deal, but I think they liked the fact I spoke their language," he admitted.

The was true. Goblins loved to haggle, but most people didn't bother with it for whatever reason in Britain. In any Goblin-run American bank, there would be lines of people hammering out a deal.

"Great!" Ray enthused. "The foci next, then?"

Harry and Evie both grumbled slightly but allowed themselves to be led to Ollivander's wand shop, which advertised it'd been making wands since the BC era.

Ray looked ready to bombard the man with questions the moment he saw him, but Egon caught his arm and hissed that he should at least wait until after Harry and Evie found wands.

When they first stepped into the shop, however, it appeared to be empty. Dim lit and dusty, Evie found her breaking point.

"This is ridiculous," she growled, and pulled a rune stone from the pouch at her waist. She channeled a small amount of magic into it, and it lit up, illuminating the dark store.

"Well, well, well. It's been quite a while since I last had a full fledged runic caster come for a wand," came a voice behind all of them.

Egon and Ray both instinctively reached towards their shoulders as they turned, before realizing they weren't wearing proton packs.

"I'm hardly full fledged," Evie corrected. "And I don't want a wand, but Hogwarts will only teach you if you have one for some foolish reason."

"Yes, as much as I am biased towards wanded magics, I do agree," the man said, stepping from the shadows. "To think they all but ignore the rest is quite foolish."

"Okay, okay, let's get on with this," Harry sighed.

"Of course, Mister Potter," the man agreed, stepping towards the piles of boxes behind the counter.

The next twenty minutes were a bit of a blur, with Harry barely touching the wands before having them snatched away, and the man (Ollivander?) muttering to himself as he puttered through the boxes, thinking.

Finally, Harry found one that warmed in his grasp.

"Twelve and a quarter inches, sycamore and unicorn hair, slightly springy," the man informed him. **(9)**

"Great, should probably get a holster, too," Harry mumbled, shuffling over to the wall where a rack of holsters stood.

Evie had nearly as much trouble as Harry, waiting over half an hour before the man threw his hands up and passed her one she'd already tried, that they both knew that, while alright, wasn't a perfect fit.

"Ten and a half inches, black walnut and dragon heartstring, unyielding," he rattled off. "Not a perfect fit. I'd suggest Acromantula silk for you, actually, if the ministry hadn't outlawed it. They found a correlation between that wand core and dark magic users." **(10)**

Evie instinctively responded with the number one rule of statistics. "Correlation does not imply causation."

The man's face broke into a twisted smile. "Yes. I think it would fit you well."

"Not like I plan to be using it much either way," Evie sniffed disdainfully.

Harry passed over two holsters he'd picked out for the pair of them, and they paid.

Ray shot a glance at Egon, who nodded slightly. Immediately, he began a barrage of questions related to wandlore and the history behind it.

Evie was looking a little intrigued, but Harry just looked embarrassed. Egon leaned down to them.

"If you want, you can go get your robes. We'll meet you in the bookstore once I can drag Ray away from here."

"Thanks, Papa Egon!" Harry said quickly, grabbing Evie's hand and dragging her from the shop.

Egon turned back to Ray with a glint in his eye and quickly joined him in haranguing the poor wandmaker.

 **HP/RGB**

"Madame Malkin's," Harry read outloud. "That looks promising."

"Nothing selling _robes_ as the height of fashion looks promising," Evie sniffed. "They're drapey and they drag through your circles and the arms catch on fire too easily."

"I have a feeling you've experienced the last one," Harry said as he opened the door.

"There was an incident with an experimental technomancy project," Evie said with a shrug. "The students I was working with wanted to wear robes for the ambiance. I don't think they'll be doing that again."

Harry laughed at that as a woman came to greet them.

"Good afternoon, I'm Madame Malkin," she greeted. She was a kindly looking older woman with grey hair and dark, well cut robes. "Hogwarts as well?"

"That's right," Harry agreed. "For both of us."

"I'm already regretting it," Evie added darkly as the two were motioned to stand on a pair of raised dais next to a boy with slicked back platinum blond hair.

"Hello," the boy greeted as they joined him. "Are you here for Hogwarts robes, then?"

"Unfortunately," Evie agreed. "You as well?"

"Yes," the boy agreed. "Which house do you think you'll end up in?"

Evie shrugged, but next to her, Harry snorted. "Please, Evie, if you don't end up in Ravenclaw, I'll eat my proton pack."

"That would be unadvisable," Evie pointed out. "You'd probably end up with radiation poisoning."

Harry groaned. "It's an _expression_! Jesus, Spengs, you're just like your uncle, you know that?"

"Your uncle, he's one of our kind, isn't he?" the blond asked.

"I would shudder to discover he ever set foot in this country before," Evie said.

"Not entirely true," Harry argued, holding up a finger. "You remember that castle in Scotland Papa Ray inherited? The one with the ghost army?"

True to her word, Evie shuddered.

The boy looked confused for a moment, before realizing. "Oh, your accents! You're American, then?"

Both nodded.

"I meant, is your uncle magical, not British," the boy explained.

A strange look came over Evie, before she drew herself up.

"Yes, of course he is," she said sticking her nose in the air. "He's up the street, badgering the wandmaker. No, the whole family is magical, of course. I'm Evanna. Evanna Spengler. That's my cousin, Harry."

The boy's eyes widened fractionally. "Spengler?"

"Correct," Evie agreed, before continuing. "We just came from the wand shop, you know, but I'm afraid my match isn't quite suited. I have one at home, much better, but it's not allowed here. Acromantula silk core, you see, can't _believe_ it's been outlawed, absolutely ridiculous if you ask me-"

The woman who'd been fixing the hem on the boy's robes finished. "That's you done, dear."

The boy hopped down from the dais and turned to Evie. "I'd forgotten to introduce myself. Malfoy, Draco Malfoy. I hope to see the two of you on the express."

With that, he turned and swept from the shop.

"Malfoy," Harry mocked. "Draco Malfoy. Very Double-07, there. What was that bit about?"

"Blood purist," Evie said, wrinkling her nose. "You could tell by the way he was asking about Uncle. I just name dropped the family name and basically bull shitted my way through everything else."

"Mostly true as well," Harry agreed. He paused. "Do you have a wand at home?"

"Actually, I do, but it's a different type of wand than these ones," Evie explained. "More like you'd think a fairy wand would be like. And it actually does have an Acromantula silk core. I'm still awful with it, though."

Harry snorted. "We are going to have a lot of fun with people this year, aren't we?"

A strange smirk grew on Evie's face. "Oh, _yes_."

 **HP/RGB**

The bookstore was crowded. Not unbearably so, but still more so than Harry would have liked. Within seconds, Evie had made a beeline for the advanced magics section and was scanning through the books.

"Wrong, wrong, stupid, read it, wrong, read it, wrong, wrong, stupid-"

Harry grinned as he headed for the history section. They couldn't have that much wrong, could they?

Apparently, they could.

"Who the hell writes this shit?" he groaned, seeing a series of children's books surrounding the "Boy-Who-Lived" and his adventures.

"Harry, what are you- oh."

Ray had come up behind the boy. "That's not right. Not right at all."

"I know!" Harry exclaimed. He pointed at a picture on the front of one, depicting him going up against a flaming monster that bore a faint resemblance to a fire elemental. "The fire elemental I fought was twice the size of that shrimpy little thing!"

Anyone else would have been under the impression that Harry was acting a brat, but Ray knew him well enough to know he was deflecting his discomfort with humor. Or attempting to, at any rate.

"Harry, we'll look into this," Ray promised.

Harry slumped slightly. "Thanks, Dad. It's just…"

Ray set a hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry seemed to draw strength from this and drew himself up. "Let's get out of here. There's nothing useful here."

They headed for the door, Ray making a motion to Egon, who was standing near an angry looking Evie, who was going off on one of the poor employees.

"Who in the seven hells outlaws _technomancy_?!"

 **HP/RGB**

The Knockturn Alley bookstore was only slightly better. They had more books on different magics, but those were really all beginners books. Evie had blown up at the shop owner again ("If you're going to smuggle in books, you could at least get _decent_ ones-!") before they gave up and headed home.

It was only a few days before they were heading out to school, so Evie was going to stay with them for the last days while her uncle gave her a crash course in proton pack maintenance.

The day before they left, Harry finally realized that there was something he really had to do before he actually left, mostly because he wouldn't be around to have to deal with the fallout.

He didn't think of it until he saw Janine stalking through the halls, muttering darkly about _men!_ again. It wasn't hard to find the source of her issues. A baffled looking Egon stuck his head from the lab, watching her walk away with confusion, before ducking back inside.

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose and went to find Peter and Winston, mostly because he knew they'd be the most help.

Peter was in his 'office'. Winston was working on replacing a clogged tube in the Ecto-1.

"Dads?" Harry asked, walking down the stairs. From his vantage point, he could see both of them. "Could you help me with something before I go?"

Peter looked up from his newspaper. "What is it, squirt?"

Harry told him.

Winston nearly hit his head on the raised hood as he pulled it from the engine. "You want to do what?!"

"That's a great idea!" Peter cheered, tossing his newspaper to the side. "I'm so glad I thought of it. Let's do this thing!"

Harry grinned.

 **HP/RGB**

A soot covered Egon trudged into the bedroom the four guys shared to find his bed missing. With a frown, and wondering if he'd done something to upset Peter again, he turned to his closet, hoping to find a clean uniform.

The closet was empty.

Egon sighed and headed downstairs. Peter was sitting at his desk, an all too innocent expression on his face.

"Peter, where are my things?"

"In your bedroom," Peter answered easily.

"I was just there, I didn't see anything," Egon frowned, looking upwards. He wondered if he'd missed something, or if there was a ghost in the firehouse again. He'd have to take some PKE readings-

Janine shrieked from downstairs.

Immediately dropping all thoughts of his things, Egon sprinted down into the basement, where Janine's bedroom sat, just off of the main room. Janine was standing in the doorway, looking extremely unhappy.

Upon seeing Egon, she spun around. "Who the hell messed up my room?!"

Egon's eyes widened, then narrowed. He spun to see a smirking Peter at the top of the stairs. " _PETER!_ "

Because just past Janine, someone had shoved a second bed up against hers. Egon had a pretty good feeling there were things in her closet, as well.

"Egon," Peter said calmly, still grinning, "Janine's been in love with you for years. Janine, Egon's also been in love with you for years, he's just an idiot. Now, the two of you can get a room."

The tips of Egon's ears turned red. "Peter, this isn't _funny_ ," he hissed.

"Yes it is," Peter corrected.

"Yeah, I think Egon's made it pretty clear where he stands," Janine snapped.

"Yes, he's in love with you," Peter said firmly. "Seriously, everyone can see it, except for the two of you. And it's driving the rest of us nuts. So, either you kiss right now, or we go to plan B."

"What's plan B?" Egon asked, in spite of himself.

"Where we handcuff the two of you to the bed," Peter said with a shrug.

The two exchanged glances.

"Well, if it's just a kiss," Egon mumbled, looking away.

Janine's cheeks were tinged pink. "I suppose, to get out of the other thing…"

It was almost painfully awkward as Janine reached a hand up to Egon's cheek and he leaned down to press their lips together.

And stayed together.

As Janine's hand snaked back to tangle in Egon's hair and his hands moved around her waist to pull her closer, Peter finally backed out of the basement with a smirk on his face.

"Successful?" Harry asked him.

"Very," Peter agreed, high-fiving the young boy. "I'm guessing we won't be seeing them for a while."

 **HP/RGB**

Sure enough, when a blushing Egon and Janine joined them later in the evening, Egon announced that he would not be needing any assistance moving his things back upstairs, to the whistles and teasing cat calls of his teammates.

 **HP/RGB**

So it was with a sense of pride that Harry finally boarded the Hogwarts Express, carrying a heavy trunk at his side and a special bottomless mokeskin pouch at his waist. Evie had two of them on hers, one filled with her runestones and the other, like Harry's, filled with whatever equipment they felt they'd use.

The specific spell work on the pouches would allow them and only them to remove whatever content they happened to be reaching for at the time, with an intent based ward. It was a difficult and powerful magic, but Evie had been experiment with making them a couple years back, and as such had several laying around her bedroom. Harry joked that it was one of those things that only Evie would ever have.

It took a bit of trial and error to actually get onto the platform, especially as everyone wanted to come to see them off. Peter got Ray to walk into six solid walls before the man had snapped and socked the other man (a very rare but very amusing occurrence) and Janine had to deflect a few railroad employees' questions, but eventually they were able to pass the barrier and head for the Hogwarts Express.

It was just before they boarded that the five adults stopped them.

"So, we know that you're both going to do great," Winston started, "but we still kind of feel like we're sending you off to war or something."

"To be fair, we very well might b-" Egon began, before Janine elbowed him.

"So we've decided that the two of you could use a little trick up your sleeve," Ray continued. "So…"

He glanced around before holding up the small briefcase he'd brought with, not telling either of the kids what was inside. Carefully, he popped the latches and opened it.

Inside, Slimer's bright face looked up at them, shoved into the compact space.

" _Hwi!_ " he cheered happily.

Harry's mouth fell open. "No way. Slimer's coming with us?"

"So _that's_ why you wouldn't let us get an animal…" Evie mused.

Harry grinned. "I can't believe it. This is awesome!"

"Just don't do anything I wouldn't do," Peter said with a grin, patting them both on the back.

"That doesn't limit us as much as you might hope," Evie pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

"Exactly," Peter grinned. "Give 'em hell, kids!"

"Keep on top of your lessons," Egon added.

"Don't forget to call!" Janine put in.

"Treat Slimer well," Ray said, handing them the now reclosed briefcase.

"And behave yourselves," Winston added.

"No promises," Harry grinned, giving each a hug. Next to him, Evie stood absorbed in her PKE meter, not paying attention. "Bye, Mum! Dads! See you at Christmas!"

With a wave, he grabbed his trunk with one hand and Slimer's case with the other and bounded onto the train.

"Evie?" Egon asked after a moment.

"Hm?" Evie asked, looking up, blinking. She seemed to realize where she was. "Oh, yes. Have a good time, Uncles, Aunt Janine. We'll take care."

Then, picking up her trunk, she too headed up onto the train.

Egon shook his head. "That girl always has her head in the clouds. We have no idea where she gets it from."

"Says the man who can ignore ghosts to death," Peter sniped, before thinking. "Wait. To death? To undeath? Non-existence? Can I get a grammar check here?" **(11)**

 **A/N:**

 **(1) There is a machine in the fire house. It explodes frequently. No one's quite sure what it does, because it's always something different. It's a bit of a running joke, and at one time, when Peter asked if he could be told what it was so he'd know what he was incinerated by, Egon responded with some long technical name, and Ray said "a toaster!" Yeah... looks like they don't know what they're doing, either.**

 **(2) Egon casts in Sumerian. Because he's fucking** ** _Egon_** **. "Alka" means "come". Clearly, Sumerian is more versatile than wands. (Though I'll get into that later.)**

 **(3) Ray can also cast in Sumerian. Because why not? "Nusku" is an incantation word. I have it so people less good with verbal casting generally use an incantation word to start their spells and gather power. Ray uses it, because he's better with rituals. Egon doesn't, because he's not. "Kalu" means "confine". Again, half of the magic is intent.**

 **(4) A box with clear sides that ghosts can't escape from. ...That's about it. Never seen in RGB, it's a bit of a reference to both the video game and the IDW comic series... both of which have Slimer (who's not so nice) locked in the observation box.**

 **(5) Literally, "Incantation word", "Diminish", and "Hearing".**

 **(6) The episode "Three Men and an Egon". Egon is in denial. Also, very interesting episode, and has me completely convinced Egon's secretly a Time Lord.**

 **(7) So, at first I was thinking about the timeline, how it would line up. If the company started in '84 (or '83, by the Omnibus timeline), that's when they'd pick up Harry, which meant that he'd be with them, but then what would happen when they broke up? Who'd he go with? And... then it just kind of devolved into a headache, as the Omnibus timeline has them breaking up semi permanently round '91 for XGB to pick up in '97, and... Well... Someone else can figure that out. Around then, I decided to just fuck the timeline, and screw with stuff 'cause this is just for funsies, anyways.**

 **(8) "Open" (There's a long Sumerian phrase that means "Open the gate for me so that I can enter here", but do we really need that? No.)**

 **(9) Being raised by the Ghostbusters made Harry into a pretty different person. His wand's pretty inflexible too, to indicate he's pretty stubborn... but not as bad as Evie.**

 **(10) Don't remember where I found this info. But there was a list of unusual wand cores. Unfortunately, Ollivander doesn't use them, but what I read said they were in use in other parts of the world. Acromantula silk, a core that seems typically dark, but isn't always, seems to fit Evie rather well.**

 **(11) In the episode "Slimer, Is That You?" in one of the first scenes, Peter comes running in to help Egon, who is sitting behind a bunch of boxes totally focused on his PKE meter and ignoring the chaos of ghosts just behind him. Peter gets snippy and suggests that next time, they should just let him "Ignore the ghosts to death".**

 **Woo, lots of notes this time. But it's done! A whole friggin' chapter! Please review!**


	3. Chapter 2

**A friend of my heads back to college today. And I told her I'd try and post an extra chapter early, just for her. (It's a very long trip.) So you all get something a little early, too! Yay!**

 **Not as many notes today. Up top, at least. And we get our first real look at both magicks and the American Magical System. And I'm always happy to answer any questions you have.**

 **Just one little thing, if you haven't noticed. Harry usually calls his cousin "Evie". But when she starts getting really sciency and he gets exasperated, he'll call her "Spengs", like Peter will Egon. It's kind of a warning for her that she's getting a little in depth, and needs to back off. And she listens... usually.**

 **I don't own anything. Enjoy!**

Chapter 2: In Which We Arrive At Hogwarts

Harry plopped himself down in his seat in the empty carriage they'd found and immediately opened Slimer's briefcase. The small green ghost popped out with a sigh of relief.

" _Cwamped in dere_ ," he informed them.

"Sorry, Slimer, we'll see about expanding it," Harry promised. "Make it more fun. Evie?"

Evie glanced up from her PKE meter. "What?"

"Do you want to look into maybe expanding the interior of Slimer's case?" Harry asked, waving it. "I have no clue how to do it. Not for something that would last, anyway."

Evie rubbed her chin. "I think I could probably whip something up. It would be a good idea to have somewhere Slimer can duck into if he needs to hide, anyway. Let me get my book…"

"Yeah, I need to study, too," Harry agreed. "Papa Ray said he'd be sending me quizzes to make sure I'm keeping up on my mythological creatures studying."

A few minutes later found Evie pouring over a book entitled " _Historical Runic Inscriptions_ " and occasionally scratching a ruin into the lining of the case. Across from her, Harry had his nose buried in a copy of " _Who's Who and What's That_ ". **(1)** Above both of them, Slimer rummaged through their trunks in search of snacks.

They stayed like this for a couple hours, before Evie let out a triumphant cry. "I think I've got it!"

Harry looked up. "When you say got it, do you mean something completely successful, or something that still might blow up on the both of us?"

Evie didn't answer right away. That alone made Harry groan. " _Spengs_ …"

"Well it'll probably work!" Evie snapped. "There's only a thirteen percent chance of a cascading failure, you can't just say that's it's going to-"

The door slid open, interrupting what would have no doubt been a fascinating argument. A girl with mousy brown hair stood in the doorway.

"Pardon me, but have either of you seen a toad? A boy named Neville's lost one."

Evie's eyes lit up. "What kind of toad?"

Harry groaned. " _Damkianna_ , Evie, don't tell me this is going to become your mold thing." **(2)**

"It's not a _thing,_ it's a collection," Evie returned. "And just because I happen to like amphibious creatures-" **(3)**

"No, it's really more what Papa Egon did to the first bathtub," Harry shot back. He paused, a grin stretching over his face. "I think Papa Peter blamed Slimer for that."

"You're American?" the girl asked in surprise. "What are you doing at Hogwarts? Shouldn't you be at Ilvermorney?"

There was a pause.

"Is that the focus type school in Virginia?" Harry asked Evie.

"I think so," Evie said slowly, tapping a finger to her lip. "It has a pretty limited curriculum, though. Not really a popular school, all things considered."

"Really?" the girl asked, fascinated. She sank into the seat next to Harry. "Are there other schools, then?"

"Several, yes," Evie agreed. "Of course, choosing a school is rather different there. It all depends on what sorts of magics you wish to study."

"Like Transfiguration versus Charms?" the girl asked curiously.

"No, like wanded casting versus runic casting," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "Or ritualist casting, verbal casting, kinetic casting, technomancy, divining… that's just a few. And then you get into the subcategories. Those usually look into your specific language or something along those lines."

"It gets rather complex, but finding your specialty really helps narrow down your future coven," Evie added.

"Coven?" the girl asked, eyes wide.

"Yes, coven," Harry agreed. "So it… it kind of starts like this. See, America doesn't have the same sort of government most of the magical worlds have. When the country first started, we had loads of small groups of magicals making their way to us in order to escape persecution in their own countries. They set up a series of magical groups called covens. At first, these covens were based mostly on location, but location has never been as much of an issue for magicals as no-majs. (That's for non-magical, by the way, us Americans never really liked the term muggle.) As time went on, the covens began to instead develop different methods of casting."

"As well as slightly different ideologies," Evie cut in. "And as the country grew, so did the covens. And the number of covens grew as well. Originally there were twenty. Now we have… a hundred thirty four, if I remember correctly."

"Right," Harry agreed. "So, it didn't take long for people to realize that not everyone cast best a certain way. So they instead started several smaller schools up across the country, to introduce magical students to the different magical theologies and methodologies of casting. Whether first-gen or not, everyone attends a school to explore their magics, and upon finishing school, is accepted into a coven."

"Most students end up joining the same coven as their parents, if they aren't a first-gen," Evie added. "But a significant percentage do join different covens, usually because they're simply gifted at a different methodology of casting. Though the ideologies are usually relatively similar."

"But how does the government work then?" the girl asked.

"Well, each coven elects a leader," Harry said slowly. "And that leader is granted a position on the governing Council. That Council also has a leader, called the Speaker, elected by the Council to lead it. Each voice on the Council has the same say, and the Speaker has a strict set of rules they must follow, to try and keep everything on the straight and narrow."

The girl thought about that for a moment with a frown. "That seems like a rather straight forward idea. Does it really keep corruption down?"

"Nothing keeps corruption down," Evie said dryly. She had returned to her book.

"What my _companion_ is _trying_ to say," Harry began, shooting her a glare, "is that there's always some corruption somewhere. And some of the covens are significantly larger than others, so it can be argued that they have less of a say in the government that those in the smaller covens… but really, it works well over all."

"It sounds so _interesting_ ," the girl gushed. "Do they teach all those different magics at Hogwarts, then?"

Harry laughed at that before growing suddenly serious. "No. Not at all. They teach almost nothing at Hogwarts. I mean, it prides itself on being the best in the country… but it's the only one in the country."

"That… that's disappointing," the girl said, face falling. "I was hoping to… learn more, I guess."

Evie looked up from over her book. "If you'd like, we could probably teach you a bit, if you like. We just have to be careful, because the British Ministry has outlawed about half our magics."

"Why?" the girl asked.

Harry and Evie both shrugged.

The girl shook her head. "I'd really like to learn, if you don't mind. Oh, I'm Hermione, by the way. Hermione Granger."

"Harry," Harry introduced, giving no last name.

"Evanna Spengler," Evie offered.

"Spengler?" Hermione asked, looking thoughtful. "I could have sworn I heard that somewhere before…"

"I think I had an ancestor run out of Britain for studying necromancy about a century ago," Evie offered.

Harry kicked her. "That's not it!"

"No, I was thinking American, actually…" Hermione mused, before her eyes lit up. "Yes, I was thinking of the Ghostbusters! Isn't there a Spengler on the team?"

Evie and Harry exchanged a grin. Well, Harry grinned, at least.

"Yes," Harry agreed. "Yes, that's Evie's Uncle Egon. And I was raised by them. And Slimer's practically a Ghostbuster himself!"

Hermione blinked. "Slimer? Not-"

Harry whistled, and Slimer came flying out of his trunk, leaving a dark spot on the rack above.

" _Hawwy, wook! Swimer fouwnd snacks!_ "

"Agh, those were my chips!" Harry yelped, jumping up and reaching for the luggage rack, but it was clear what Slimer had found from the ring of cheese dust around his mouth. "Evie, fix the damn briefcase! I think he's slimed all my clothes!"

"Yes, probably mine, too," Evie agreed. "I suppose we'll just have to go to the feast in our other uniforms." She lifted the case and opened it again, then raised the knife she'd been carving the ruins with and gently pricked her finger. She rubbed a small smear of blood on one of the ruins, causing the whole thing to light up. A second later, it looked like the bottom fell away as the case expanded inside. "Slimer, can you go in here for now? We'll find you something to eat later."

" _Okawy, Evie!_ " The small green ghost dived into the case and Evie snapped it shut.

Meanwhile, Harry was standing with an open mouth. "Wha- bu… you planned this! You planned for our robes to get slimed!"

"I don't like robes," Evie said flatly, carefully placing the briefcase next to her.

"But our books!"

"All the good ones are in our pouches. It's only the useless drivel in our trunks, and neither of us plan to use those if at all possible."

Harry buried his face in his hands. "Merciful _Annunaki_ , I don't know whether to laugh or cry right now."

Evie returned to her book, trying not to grin.

Hermione just found herself looking between the two, bemused.

 **HP/RGB**

The rest of the ride was filled with conversation mostly pertaining to what life was like in the states compared to Britain. Harry was able to give comprehensive information on both the magical and non magical sides, so Evie spent most of the time with her nose buried in the book Harry had been reading before.

Hermione, unfortunately was able to give very little information on the magical side of things, but there was a great deal of interest in the differences between her school and the home schooling Harry had grown up with. Evie didn't participate much at all, only occasionally correcting Harry or commenting on something.

They were interrupted three times.

The first was by a boy with red hair, who opened the door while Evie was in the middle of correcting Harry on the nature of the proton packs they used.

"No, it's a nuclear accelerator, actually, which gives them enough positronic energy to concentrate into a beam, which reacts upon contact with an ectoplasmic body-"

That was about the point the boy left.

The second was by the same blond boy Harry and Evie had met in the robe shop, who turned his nose up at seeing their non-magical clothing and immediately closed the door again.

"Ass," Harry muttered upon seeing him. Evie didn't even argue.

The final visitor was an older lady with a trolley full of snacks. Harry and Evie took one look at her, pulled out several galleons, and bought a mountain of treats.

"There's no way you're going to be able to eat all those," Hermione gaped.

"Oh, it's not for us," Evie said with a sardonic grin as she opened Slimer's briefcase. "Slimer! Snack time!"

" _OH BOWY!_ "

Slimer shot out of the case with surprising speed, making a beeline for the food.

"How are you going to be able to keep him at Hogwarts?" Hermione asked, fascinated.

"We'll think of something," Harry said with a shrug. "I can always claim he's a familiar, or something."

"But couldn't you get in trouble?" Hermione pressed.

"They could _try_ , but in Harry's position, that probably wouldn't happen," Evie said with a shrug. "Him being the boy who lived and all."

Hermione's mouth fell open. "You- you're Harry _Potter?!_ "

"That's me," Harry agreed. "Though, all things considered, I'd rather be-"

Evie smacked him upside the head. "That's still not funny."

"Yes it is," Harry said with a grin. "Hey, did you know there's a book series about me? Complete nonsense. Says I've been fighting monsters for years."

Evie cocked an eyebrow. "You _have_ been fighting monsters for years."

"Yeah, but these ones aren't dead!"

 **HP/RGB**

When the sky began to get dark, Hermione ducked from the compartment to change. When she returned in her robes, she found Harry and Evie both in Ghostbuster uniform. Evie's had a name tag reading _Mini Spengs_ , and Harry had one reading _Squirt_.

Peter had been the one to order them.

Despite the ridiculous name tags, both seemed well at ease in the attire.

"You weren't kidding about not wearing robes, were you?" Hermione asked dryly.

Harry shrugged. "We really would have worn them, but they're a little covered in ectoplasm right now."

"We'll have to check our potions supplies later," Evie murmured, not looking up from her book. "To double check the supplies haven't been contaminated."

Harry scowled. "You're kidding. Didn't you think of that?"

"Actually, as I stored both of our supplies in lead lined boxes, it should be fine, unless Slimer somehow opened it."

"Well, that's some good news," Harry allowed. When Hermione glanced over, he offered a quick explanation. "Ghost proof."

"Ah."

"Not entirely-" Evie corrected, but Harry waved her off.

"Spengs is about to get technical, or something," Harry whispered to Hermione. "And sometimes, believe me, it's better to cut her off before she gets going."

Evie shot him a glare before returning to her book.

It wasn't much longer before the train pulled to a stop.

"Someone's going to have fun cleaning those trunks," Harry mused as Evie picked up Slimer's briefcase and returned the book to Harry. He slipped it into his pouch.

Leaving the trunks themselves on the train, the three made their way from the compartment, Harry and Evie picking up a few strange looks for their attire.

"First thing I learn to do with a wand is fix this damned name tag," Harry hissed to Evie.

"Fix mine as well, if you can," Evie agreed. "I'll look for something in my books, as well."

Previously, neither had thought much on the subject, especially as the new uniforms had been presented to them just before they left.

"You could just sew them," Hermione suggested.

The two exchanged a glance.

"...I would have come to that conclusion eventually," Evie declared.

"We'll do it tonight," Harry agreed. "Now I just need to decide if I want to have it say Potter or not. I'm kind of tempted to make it say Venkman."

Evie snorted at that. While not particularly well known, the Venkman name _was_ a wizarding one. Unfortunately, it was not usually associated with men of good character.

"Uncle Peter would love that."

"I _know_ ," Harry snickered.

"First years! First years, this way!"

The three friends followed the call of a massive man (probably only part human, Evie had told them) carrying a heavy lantern. Evie, still holding Slimer's case, raised her PKE meter with her other hand.

" _Fascinating_ ," she murmured, scanning the area. "I have _got_ to get a look at these wards-"

"Not tonight," Harry groaned. "Come on, I'm starved, and Slimer's probably getting hungry too."

Evie looked disappointed. "Yes, of course. I'll come out another time."

"Can I come to?" Hermione asked.

"I don't see why not."

Several other students seemed to give Evie and Harry a wide berth, partly because of the clothes, partly because of the beeping machine Evie was carrying. It did cast a rather curious image.

The huge man leading them stopped at the edge of a lake. "No more 'en four te a boat!" he shouted out, climbing into one himself.

Harry, Hermione, and Evie claimed one for themselves, and a dark skinned boy climbed after them.

"Sorry," he said, "I hope you don't mind me joining you all."

"Nah, it's fine," Harry said with a grin. "Welcome to the crazy boat."

"Harry!" Hermione hissed, though she, too, was grinning.

"I just saw the uniforms and the meter," the boy continued. "You're Ghostbusters, right? I'm a bit of a fan. The whole family is, really."

"Ooh, Evie, you hear that?" Harry asked excitedly. "We've got fans!"

"I thought that was rather obvious," Evie said dryly. She was still more focused on the meter. "Hm."

"Dean Thomas," the boy introduced. "Didn't know a thing about this magic stuff until the letter came."

"Hermione Granger," Hermione said easily, smiling. "I didn't have a clue either."

Harry glanced at Evie, who took his wordless prompting. "Evanna Spengler, and my cousin, Harry. We're both Americans and, I suppose, Ghostbusters in training, as it were."

"Hence the terrible name tags," Harry added, tapping his. "Papa Peter's awesome, but he can be an ass."

As he spoke, there was a call of "FORWARD!" and the boats lurched into the water.

"I think there are ghosts in the castle," Evie mused lightly, tilting the meter.

"I've read there are several ghosts, but they're not supposed to be bad ones," Hermione offered.

Harry frowned. "Hm. Something to look into, I guess."

"I'd say none are more than a class two," Evie added. "Probably just departed people hanging about."

"There are other kinds of ghosts?" Dean asked.

"Oh, yes," Harry said, grinning. "I mean, yeah, you got your basic dead folk, but then you've got goopers, gremlins, goblins-different species from the banking ones-, possessors, vapors, repeaters, demons, devils, terror dogs, demonics-different from demons, actually-, entities, manifestations, primal gods-"

"Okay, I get it," Dean said quickly.

Chatter picked up about trivial things, until the boat they sat in rounded the bend.

There stood Hogwarts in all her glory.

Harry's breath caught despite himself. "It's… beautiful."

"An awe inspiring sight does not a good school make," Evie dismissed, turning back to her meter as the others shot her incredulous glances.

Evie was… unique. Always.

"Ignore her," Harry suggested. "I end up doing that half the time anyways."

Not a huge amount more was said as they finished crossing the lake and made their way up to the castle. The man leading them banged loudly on the door.

It opened, revealing a taller woman with a stern looking expression.

"The first years, Professor McGonagall."

"Thank you, Hagrid, I'll take it from here."

"She's supposed to be a brilliant Transfiguration teacher," Hermione whispered to Harry, as Evie was still absorbed by the beeping meter.

"Hm. We'll see," Harry allowed as they followed her into the hall.

She led them quickly to an anteroom off what Harry assumed to be the Great Hall, where she gave a short lecture on how the houses of Hogwarts were supposed to be like a family. To be honest, Harry was mostly tuning her out, though Hermione was paying strict attention. If anything important was said, she'd pass it along.

It wasn't until Hermione nudged him that he glanced up and realized the professor was looking straight at him.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Where are your robes?" she asked, voice strict as she glanced between him and the oblivious Evie.

"In our trunks," Harry said with a shrug. "There was a small incident on the way here."

Her eyes narrowed. "What _sort_ of incident."

Harry couldn't keep a grin off of his face. "They got _slimed_."

"Excuse me?"

Evie looked up, face expressionless. "They had a meeting with a class five full torso roaming vapor. Ectoplasmic discharge was an unfortunate side effect. It's rather lucky that my cousin and I had another uniform option."

"It's all been cleared with Dumbledore," Harry added cheerfully. "You can check with him."

"I think I will," the woman muttered, sweeping from the room.

Evie returned to her meter.

"Speaking of slime, we're going to have to find some way to the kitchens," Harry commented out loud, ignoring the eyes on him. "I don't think it's a good idea to release the little spud in the middle of a feast."

"It probably won't be a daily issue," Evie offered. Then she turned to face the wall. "We've got a swarm, approaching fast."

Harry tensed, one hand going to his pouch, ready to pull out his pack at a moment's notice. Hermione and Dean both tensed as well, and Evie looked ready to release Slimer if need be.

And then a swarm of silvery ghosts passed through the wall.

"All low class twos, we should be good," Evie announced, relaxing. Harry did so as well, even as several shrieks went up from the crowds.

"...Peeves has been given _enough_ chances, and- oh, new students!"

"Shades!" Harry said cheerfully. "Oh, I _love_ a good shade. They always have the _best_ stories."

"I hope to see you all in my old house," one told them happily. "Hufflepuff, you know-"

"I _say,_ it can't be!"

One of the ghosts, with a large ruffled collar had caught sight of Harry and Evie. "Ghostbusters in Hogwarts? I do hope it's none of us that have raised your ire."

"Nah, we're here for a nasty little gooper named Tom," Harry said cheerfully. As he spoke, he pulled a silver glove from inside his pouch and tugged it on, before offering his hand. "Nice to meet you all. Harry. That's my cousin, Evie Spengler."

To the surprise of the watching students, the boy was actually able to, with the help of the glove, shake the hand of the ghost. Quickly, the others lined up to shake his hand as well.

"Tis a curious glove," one ghost mused. "What is imbued within to let it touch spirits such as us?"

"Good question. Evie?" Harry asked.

"It's a combination of dried ectoplasm in the fabric and a few rare metals spun into the wool," Evie answered, her gaze still on the ghosts. "Tell me, do you all carry death scars?"

Harry stepped on her foot. "Rude, Spengs."

Evie blinked. "Oh, yes. My apologies. Perhaps we might converse at a later date?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "And… your Egon is showing." He made a show of glancing at his watch. "How much longer before that professor gets back, do you think?"

As he said it, the stern woman stepped back into the room, eyes widening slightly as she took in the sight of the ghosts.

"We will certainly seek you out to speak," the ruffled ghost said with a smile. "And do tell the others that some of us do appreciate what they did about the Traveller."

With that, the ghosts departed, heading into the Great Hall.

" _Traveller_ ," Harry grumbled. "Still can't believe that _thing_ had a _title_."

"He had several," Evie reminded him quietly, finally stowing her meter back in her pouch. She picked up Slimer's case. "Traveller, Destructor-" **(4)**

But Evie's listing was interrupted by the professor. "Follow me," she instructed, and led them into the Great Hall.

Harry glanced around, hiding a grin at the number of people clearly staring at him and Evie, who was focused entirely on the ceiling.

"It's enchanted," Hermione informed her. "I read about it in _Hogwarts, A History_."

"Hm. I may have to find a copy," Evie mused. "You didn't see it when you were perusing the books at the Diagon bookstore, Harry?"

"To be honest, I was a little distracted by your shouting about the technomancy ban," Harry admitted softly. "And the book series supposedly about me."

"So _that's_ what you were threatening a lawsuit about…" Evie recalled, mentally adding that she would need to get a copy of those as well.

The group of first years came to a stop at the front of the hall, where a hat sat on an old stool.

There was a pause. Harry glanced at Evie and Hermione, confused, before a fold in the hat opened up and it started to sing.

Harry jerked back instinctively and Evie's free hand dove for her PKE meter, immediately waving it in the direction of the hat. Evie read the screen intently before glancing at Harry and shaking her head.

Harry relaxed, grin coming back. So, the hat wasn't possessed. That was good. He could deal with weird enchanted stuff, so long as it wasn't _possessed._

He'd had a bad experience with a cookie jar. And he'd heard his dads reminiscing once on how they'd beaten a group of possessed cockroaches.

But the hat was just a hat. So no worries.

By the time they'd reassured themselves, the song was over, and the professor had begun reading a list of names. To be honest, he wasn't paying attention again, at least not until-

"Granger, Hermione!"

Hermione practically flew up the steps to the stool, where the hat was sat on her head. There was a minute of silence before…

" _RAVENCLAW!_ "

Harry grinned and clapped with the others, pretty sure that Hermione had asked to go there because she knew Evie would end up there.

He didn't pay much attention to the others, absently noting that the rude blond ended up in Slytherin. And then…

"Potter, Harry!"

There were more than a few gasps that rang out as he stepped up to the stool. _The_ Harry Potter not in uniform? Even the first years he'd met were surprised, as well as the ghosts watching over the hall. After all, Harry had been very careful to never use his surname, only his first name, and then immediately connect himself with Evie. Because she _did_ have a surname she gave out, most assumed they shared one.

Oh, how he _loved_ tearing expectations to shreds.

Then the hat plopped on his head and he lost sight of everyone as the large brim dropped over his eyes.

 _Hello, there_ , came a small voice in the back of his head.

 _Hello,_ Harry thought back. _Nice to meet you_.

 _Oh, you_ are _a curious one, aren't you?_ the hat mused. _Difficult to place. Loyalty to your chosen family, and brave to a fault._

 _If it's possible, I'd like to go to Ravenclaw_ , Harry offered. _I'd rather stick by Evie if at all possible_.

 _Are you sure?_ the hat probed. _You could be great in Slytherin_.

 _I think I could be just as great elsewhere_ , Harry returned. _I'm not about to let a house define me. It's really more of a logistical thing_.

 _You'd do well in Gryffindor as well_ , the hat pressed. _Your future would be legendary. That's where they expect you to go, you know._

 _Oh, I know_ , Harry assured. _They've all said things like, "Your parents were in Gryffindor", or some such nonsense. To be honest, though, that's more of an argument for Slytherin than anything else. I never liked expectations._

The hat laughed at that. _Yes, I can see. And perhaps this will do you good, in the end. Very well, better be… RAVENCLAW!_

This last word was shouted to the hall, and though there was a moment of surprise, it wasn't long before clapping began and Harry headed to the table with blue decor.

There, he sat right next to a beaming Hermione, and looked back up to watch the rest of the sorting.

Most people he wasn't interested in, but it wasn't long before…

"Spengler, Evanna!"

This generated a new wave of whispers from the older families who recognized the name.

Evie, however, was again absorbed in her meter and didn't react.

The professor had to call her name twice more before Dean nudged her and nodded towards the hat.

Evie tinged slight. "Apologies," she said quickly as she picked up the briefcase next to her and headed up to sit on the stool.

The hat had barely touched her head when it shouted " _RA-_ " and then abruptly cut off.

Harry frowned. What could have…?

And then he snickered. He knew exactly what was going on. Evie was wearing a hat that could read minds, and she was a child _prodigy_. The hat was probably curious, after years of sitting on really only children's heads, to get a look at such an odd one.

A minute stretched past.

And then two.

The murmuring amongst the students picked up and even Dumbledore was frowning as time stretched on. Six minutes passed before the professor prodded at the hat.

"Wha-what? What is it?"

"You're taking quite a while," the professor said carefully.

"...So I am. No, she's definitely _RAVENCLAW!_ "

Evie had an odd expression on her face as the hat was lifted from her head.

"I sit in the Headmaster's office, Miss Spengler, if you'd like to drop by sometime-"

"I shall certainly endeavour to do so," Evie agreed before the clapping drowned her out and she headed for the Ravenclaw table, making a beeline for Harry.

"What took you so long?" Harry demanded, clapping her on the back. "You nearly gave me a heart attack, Spengs!"

"We were discussing the intricacies of magical theory," Evie informed them. "He really is a brilliant conversationalist."

"Only you would end up discussing that with a _hat_ ," Harry complained, rolling his eyes.

"Say what you will," Evie commented calmly, "he's a much better participant than you ever were."

Harry made a show of sniffing, as though insulted.

At the front, Dean became a Gryffindor. The three applauded as he joined the red table.

When the sorting finally concluded, the headmaster stood and gave a few nonsensical words before food appeared on the tables before them.

Hermione and Evie quickly launched into a deeply technical discussion on the makeup of ghosts. Harry, meanwhile, waved down the ruffled ghost he'd first shook hands with earlier, pulled out a notepad, and started bombarding the deceased wizard with questions. Mostly things he knew that his dads (well, Ray and Egon at least, Winston wouldn't be interested and Peter would actively avoid it) would want to know.

This had the welcome, if unintended, side effect of warding off others who wanted to speak with them. Harry hadn't been looking forward to the intense questioning the rest of the students would no doubt subject him to. And really, ghosts were _so_ much more interesting.

But all good things must come to an end. Finally, as he was reaching the end of his questioning, the deserts vanished and Dumbledore stood again.

"Welcome to another year at-"

And Harry tuned him out again. Food made him sleepy, and it had already been a long day. Plus, the jet leg was playing havoc with his system (They'd gotten up rather early to help make the switch).

Also, a pair of ghosts seemed to be having a silent fight in one of the corners, and that was infinitely more interesting than a stupid speech.

He did pick up on a few tidbits. How the Forbidden Forest was forbidden. (Though exactly why they would have such a dangerous forest so close to a school was far beyond him.) And that they shouldn't go into the third floor corridor on the right hand side if they didn't wish to die a painful death.

Which really just meant they'd have to check it out. _Obviously_.

Finally, _finally_ , the talking stopped, and one of the older Ravenclaws stood. "First years, this way!"

Shooting a grin at Evie (who had at some point during the meal pulled out some scanner he didn't recognize and was fiddling with it in a manner only she and Egon could), Harry jumped up and caught her arm, dragging her along. She didn't even look up.

Hermione grinned at Harry, seeing that. Yes, Evie was one of a kind.

Following the older Ravenclaw (who was apparently a prefect, whatever that was) brought them out of the hall and up several moving staircases. Apparently, the wards on those were enough to get Evie's attention, because Harry had to drag her away again, gathering even more murmurs surrounding the two weird students.

At the base of what Harry was pretty sure was one of the towers (though it was pretty hard to tell, as they were in a _castle_ ), the lead Ravenclaw halted in front of a door knocker shaped like an eagle.

"An eagle?" Harry asked quietly, scratching his chin. "Should we be insulted they stole our national emblem?"

"If you want to be technical, we stole theirs," Evie returned, cocking an eyebrow. "Hogwarts is older than our country."

Harry blinked. "Right… Okay. And we can't have stolen it, that's not a bald eagle, just a normal one."

"So, we can't be thieves, but they can?" Evie asked dryly.

"Yeah, that's about it," Harry agreed with a grin.

Evie rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Now, this is the entrance to the Ravenclaw common room," the prefect was saying. "To enter, you have to knock here, and then the eagle will ask you a riddle. Someone has to get the riddle correct in order to enter."

"What if you can't guess the answer?" one girl asked.

"Then you have to stick around until someone who does know the answer comes along," the prefect explained.

"It doesn't seem very secure, though," Hermione frowned. "What if someone from another house can answer the riddles?"

"If someone can, and that's a surprisingly large if," the prefect said, clearly pleased someone had thought to ask, "we're happy to welcome them into our common room as honorary Ravenclaws. That doesn't mean you should be making it easy for them, though! Half the fun is in discovering it for yourselves!"

With that, he reached up and swung the door knocker.

As he did so, the eagle seemed to come alive.

" _Where do ghosts come from?"_

"Well, that's an easy one," the prefect laughed, looking towards the first years. "Who wants to answer?"

"Ghosts come from dead wizards!" exclaimed one boy.

" _Limited_ ," the knocker said shortly.

The prefect blinked as the door failed to open. "I… I guess that it's looking for a more expansive answer. That… happens sometimes."

The _though not usually_ , went unsaid. **(5)**

No one stepped up for a moment before Harry cleared his throat. "Evie? Where do ghosts come from?"

Evie (who had been absorbed in her scanner) looked up in surprise. "Well, it depends on the ghost. Some are deceased people or animals. Some are other dimensional entities. Some are manifestations of belief. Some are-"

"That's probably enough," Harry said smugly.

Evie blinked, confused, as the knocker's eyes glowed.

" _Expertly stated_ ," it said, and then the wall swung outwards, revealing the common room inside.

"Right," the prefect said, surprised. "This is our common room. As you can see, we have our own-"

He was cut off as Evie dashed past him, into the room, making a beeline for the books.

"...library," he finished weakly. "Well, breakfast starts at seven tomorrow, and your dorms are up the stairs over there. Girls on the left, boys on the right. Welcome to Ravenclaw?"

" _You call this an extensive private library?! Where the hell-_ "

"Any other questions?" the prefect tried.

Harry hefted Slimer's briefcase and raised his hand. "Yeah. Where are the kitchens?"

 **HP/RGB**

After receiving a good natured ribbing for wanting to see the kitchens after such a large feast, Harry was able to get a seventh year prefect to take him down, though he refused to tell anyone why. And after Evie was done ranting over the bibliographical selection, she was happy to join them.

This was how they met the house elves. And how the prefect met Slimer. And how Slimer fell in love with house elves (because they made SO MUCH FOOD). And vice versa (because he ate EVERYTHING THEY COOKED).

Of course, as Evie and Harry lounged around waiting for Slimer to finish eating, the prefect had panicked and run off to find a teacher. So, about five minutes later, McGonagall, Dumbledore, and a professor with greasy black hair and a hook nose came barrelling into the kitchen.

"Hi," Harry greeted with a lazy smile. "What's up?"

"Mister Potter," Dumbledore said, staring at the green ghost. "What exactly is the meaning of this?"

"Well, we figured it would be better not to release Slimer at the feast," Harry said with a shrug.

"Yes, class five full torso roaming vapors are not the best way to make friends, or so I've been told," Evie mused.

"You kidding?" Harry asked. "We hated each other until we worked together to bust that class five that snuck in the firehouse."

"Yes, but we're not normal," Evie reminded. "And Slimer… well, no one wants to be introduced to him at a _feast._ "

"Touche," Harry agreed.

"But what is it?" Dumbledore demanded again.

"A class five full torso roaming vapor," Evie repeated. "And he's with us."

"Miss Spengler, if I recall, there is nothing in our letters about allowing… _vapors_ in our school," McGonagall said sharply.

"Yeah, but there's nothing disallowing them," Harry pointed out, still lounging comfortably. "And you don't seem to have a problem with any of the shades running about."

"Shades?" Dumbledore asked.

"You know, the silvery ghosts," Harry said with a shrug. "I don't know why you'd let one type of ghost go wild and ban another."

This was not true. He could totally see why. And had, in many real life cases. But that didn't mean he was going to let them get rid of Slimer without a fight.

He liked the little spud.

"Slimer is a perfectly acceptable pet," Evie agreed.

Slimer made a dissenting noise, waving his arms, from where he was half-way through a cherry pie. " _No! Nah pet!_ "

"I'm not saying that, Slimer," Evie said quickly, relatively certain that the wizards didn't know Slimer well enough to pick up anything he was saying what-so-ever. "Just… that…"

She looked at Harry for help.

"We're best buds, spud," Harry said cheerfully. "We wouldn't get rid of you for all the ice cream in the world." (And, to Slimer, that was the most powerful thing he could have said.)

Slimer made several bashful sounds before returning to his pie.

"So, Slimer's with us," Harry repeated to the teachers. "That's how it is. If you don't like it, we'll all leave."

"No!" Dumbledore said quickly. It had been enough of a headache to get Harry to come in the first place.

"What exactly are you hoping to accomplish here, Potter?" the dark haired teacher sneered. "Showing off your little pet? Hoping we'll bow to your whims?"

"Well, we hadn't exactly planned on showing off. That's why we came to feed Slimer after the feast," Harry mused. "And as for bowing to my whims, yeah, a little. We don't have to be here. It's you who all but demanded we come."

The man's lip twisted, but Dumbledore quickly cut him off. "Severus, this is, by all accounts, perfectly fine. Two students came to feed their pet in a manner to keep it out of the eyes of most of the other students, so as to not cause a fuss. There's nothing wrong with that."

Unfortunately, he hadn't been paying attention to Slimer, who was clearly getting irritated by the men repeatedly referring to him as a "pet". With a growl, the little ghost launched himself through the air, thoroughly sliming the two wizards.

McGonagall stared. Evie hid a smile. Harry straight up laughed. And Slimer blew a raspberry at the men.

"Well, I think that means you're good, right?" Harry asked Slimer innocently. "We'd best get back to our common room, then. Have a good night."

With that, he and Evie waved a quick goodbye to the cheerful house elves and pushed past the teachers to the hall way. Almost as an afterthought, Evie opened Slimer's case and held it up.

"Slimer! Time for bed!"

Slimer raced for the case, sliming both men a second time, before diving in. Evie clamped it shut, and without another word, followed Harry as they retraced their steps.

And ignored the shout behind them from the greasy professor, about taking " _a million points_ " from Ravenclaw. After all, that was technically a punishment, which he couldn't carry out without permission from the Ghostbusters.

Oh, yes, this was going to be a very fun year.

 **A/N: And so it begins.**

 **(1) A reference book mentioned in the RGB episode "The Grundel" (which also contains one of my all time favorite scenes.)**

 **(2) Harry frequently curses in Sumerian. He picked it up from Egon. And, on occasion, Ray.**

 **(3) Evie collects amphibians. She doesn't know this, but her parents are getting rid of all of them while she's away. (Why can't she collect something not living, like all the other 'normal' Spenglers?)**

 **(4) Also called Gozer. If you don't know who that is, I question why you're reading this at all.**

 **(5) My current head cannon: usually that answer would be appropriate, but the eagle head can tell if someone there is able to give a better, more complete answer, and looks for that.**

 **Okay, that's everything! Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed, and please review! They inspire me to write more, faster!**


	4. Chapter 3

**Oh, lookie here. Another chapter! How exciting!**

 **And that means you get to sit through a little more of my musings. Doesn't that sound fun?**

 **Okay, in all seriousness, though, I am sorry this chapter is later than the others. It's mostly because I got really really sick for several days and believe me, writing was the absolute last thing on my mind. (When I could actually keep coherent thoughts in my mind. But I digress.) Anyways, all better now, and back to writing amusing stuff. Yay!**

 **Thanks for all of your reviews. They really do inspire me. And I do answer questions.**

 **I did get a comment that Evie and Harry would make a good couple. I just want to say, that is never going to happen. I always feel it's too cliche when an OC and the main character get together. And as funny as that pairing would no doubt end up (I may be persuaded to write a few omakes or something along those lines), Harry and Evie have been raised as cousins, and as cousins they will stay. I'm not even sure I'm going to end up pairing Harry with anyone to be honest, though we'll have to see how the story goes...**

 **On that note, I also got a request from another reviewer saying they wanted more of Harry growing up with the Ghostbusters. I've actually started writing a side story called "The Dad Games", detailing the week-long competition for the title of "Dad". I'm not sure yet if I'll post it as a full story on its own or as an interlude. But as I'm not far into it yet, it's not really an issue. But there you go. I listen to you guys!**

 **So, a note that will probably come up. Harry has a bit of an ego. And he's going to act like it. Usually, with the Ghostbusters, he doesn't, mostly because he doesn't have to. But because he's on his own? He totally will. And he doesn't get the ego thing from just Peter. All the Ghostbusters have them, to an extent. Winston and Ray seem to have egos just slightly larger than normal. Peter's got a massive one everyone notices. Egon got a pretty large one too, it's just less noticeable, because he, unlike Peter can actually back it up. There's one scene in the episode "Janine Melnitz, Ghostbuster" (excellent episode, and the basis for the IDW Get Real comic) where Peter narrowly escapes being shot by a group of Mexican Goblins, leading them into a trap. He comments, "I can't believe that worked," to which Egon responds, "Of course it did. I designed it."**

 **Janine, on the other hand, has like, no self esteem what-so-ever.**

 **I don't know if there's an actual point to this discussion. I just find it interesting.**

 **On to the story!**

Chapter 3: In Which Harry Gets Lost and Snape Makes Evie Mad

"Okay, so we've lost Transfiguration, Charms, History of Magic, and Defense," Harry recited, going through the books he and Evie had brought. "You've lost your Potions text, and I've lost my Herbology text, so we'll have to share. And somehow, our astronomy texts have both made it through, which is too bad, as we're not going to be attending that class anyways."

They sat on a pair of the chairs set out, near a large statue of Rowena Ravenclaw. They weren't quite ready to go to bed, despite being tired.

"Correct," Evie frowned. "At least our potions kits have made it through."

"Hm," Harry agreed, non committally. He wasn't a fan of potions, though Evie had a knack for it. It fell into ritual classifications, though, so Ray was still the best.

"You don't have to sound so disappointed," Evie said, arching an eyebrow. "If you don't like the class, don't go."

"What are we supposed to do with all this extra time, though?" Harry asked. "We're going to hardly any of the classes!"

"Well, I'll probably start sitting in on the Ancient Runes and Arithmancy classes," Evie mused. "Runes will probably be too basic, though. I may look into Care of Magical Creatures. Or perhaps Divination."

"Maybe you can teach Papa Peter something," Harry said dryly.

"Oh, I'm not any good at it," Evie said, waving a hand dismissively. "I'm just interested in the theory."

"Then you're screwed," Harry said dryly.

"Not necessarily. I hope to find a diamond in the rough."

"In Magical Britain?" Harry asked, incredulous. "You'd be more likely to find a pile of sh-"

"First years are supposed to be in bed," interrupted a voice behind them.

The two turned to see another prefect (maybe one of the sixth years?) standing with crossed arms behind them.

"Sorry, we're not quite used to the time jump yet," Harry apologized. "It's only six back home."

"You'll not want to be late in the morning, though," the prefect warned.

"Alright," Harry sighed. He picked up Slimer's case (Even if the ghost was tucked away, it still didn't feel right to leave him alone somewhere) and headed for the stairs. "See you in the morning, Evie."

"Good night," Evie agreed, following.

 **HP/RGB**

The next morning, Harry was awoken by his dormmates excitedly chatting about classes.

With a groan, squinting, he checked his watch.

6:23.

Oh, he wanted to _hurt_ someone. But he really shouldn't be going back to bed, and he did have someone he could take his frustrations out on…

Rolling over, he stuck one hand down around the edge of his bed and pulled Slimer's case out. With a yawn, he dragged himself into a sitting position and popped the latches.

Slimer was still sleeping inside, tucked onto a floating pillow with a blanket and what looked like Ray's stuffed Stay Puft marshmallow man. Where exactly he'd gotten them from, Harry didn't want to know.

He carefully poked Slimer through the blanket. "Slimer? Hey, it's morning here."

Slimer gave a moan as he opened his eyes, muttering darkly.

"I know, I know," Harry sighed. "We'll get on the schedule soon, so don't worry. But I need you to do me a favor."

Slimer rose out of the case, tilting his head curiously. " _Hawwy need waat?_ "

"See, I don't know if Evie was able to get up in time. So I need you to go and find her, and… wake her up."

That made Slimer perk up. " _Wak Evie?_ "

"That's right," Harry agreed. "And then get back to your case, so we can get you down to breakfast."

" _BWEKFAST! OKAWY!_ " With that, he shot off, leaving a blob of slime on the curtains as he passed through.

Ooh… The house elves were going to _love_ that.

Yawning again, Harry pulled the curtains aside and climbed from his bed to open up his trunk. Someone had cleaned inside, and while his books were still hopelessly matted together, his clothes and robes were clean.

He had mixed feelings on the robes front.

But, knowing he really should at least make an effort, he grabbed a change of clothes and a robe and headed for the bathroom.

 **HP/RGB**

When he finished getting ready, he headed for the stairs, still carrying Slimer's case, surprised the ghost hadn't returned. Instead, he found him at the bottom of the stairs, floating around Evie, who was wearing robes, had still damp hair, and had an unamused expression on her face.

"Sleep well?" Harry asked innocently.

"Well enough," she said. "It was the waking up I didn't care for."

Harry pressed his lips together, trying not to laugh. "Well, I'm sorry about that."

"Hm." She clearly didn't believe him. "I think Slimer should stay out for the day. Maybe follow us around a bit, to get people used to him."

"No one's ever going to get used to him," Harry shot back.

Slimer blew a raspberry at that. " _Not twue!_ "

"Okay, most people will never get used to him," Harry allowed. "Which is fine, because it means he gets to spend more time with us."

Slimer nodded happily. " _Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh!_ "

"People can get used to a surprising amount of things, if properly introduced and desensitized," Evie argued. She took Slimer's case from Harry and pulled a runestone from her pouch, which now sat in a pocket. "Just look at Aunt Janine." She tapped the stone on the case and smiled with pride as it shrunk down. She shoved it into her pocket, though Harry wasn't sure if it was in the runestone pouch or not. Her runestone was returned, though.

"I'm not sure that's a fair comparison," Harry frowned. "I mean, we both know there's only one reason she put up with everything, and he just moved into her room-"

"Good morning!" Hermione greeted, coming down the stairs behind them.

Slimer made a sound that may have been an attempt at her name, before engulfing her in a cheerful hug and a big kiss that covered the right side of her face in slime.

"Ugh!" she cried, pushing him away.

Evie pulled a towel from her pocket and offered it to the other girl. "That's how he says hello."

"And good bye. And he'll miss you. And he's glad to see you're alive. And-" Harry was cut off when Evie smacked the back of his head. "Ow!"

"You get used to it," Evie said shortly. "And towels really come in handy."

"As do showers," Harry agreed, glancing towards Evie's wet hair.

"Harry, it is taking all of my will power not to strangle you right now," Evie said, voice slightly strained.

"You two act like brother and sister, you know that?" Hermione asked, passing a now slimey towel back to Evie.

"We're aware," Evie said shortly, before turning to the entrance. "Now, breakfast?"

"Let's freak some people out!" Harry cheered, moving for the door. Slimer followed close behind. Because, _breakfast_!

 **HP/RGB**

Breakfast was… _interesting_.

Harry had to hide a grin at the stares he knew they were getting. And sure, people would start asking them questions soon, but really, it was so much more fun to just keep them guessing.

So he would be doing that for as long as he could.

Unfortunately, Evie had lent Hermione a book on basic runes, which meant that she was paying no attention to him. And Evie was absorbed in a daemonology textbook for her Miskatonic class. Which left him alone to mind Slimer.

Which, when a table full of food was involved, was much harder than it looked.

"No, stay _here_. You can't just- _no_ , Slimer. That's not a-"

He ducked as an empty plate went flying over his head to clatter on the ground next to him. "Well, it's probably a good thing you managed to scare all the other folks off," Harry muttered darkly.

"Mister Potter?"

Harry turned at the sound to find a small man (his head of house, right?) standing behind him. "Good morning, Professor," he greeted, completely blanking on the man's name. **(1)**

"I have your class schedule here," he said, passing a piece of parchment to him. "Would you mind giving a copy to Miss Spengler and Miss Granger, as well? They seem a little distracted."

"Yeah, I can do that," Harry agreed.

"And your… pet?"

Slimer looked up and blew a raspberry.

"Not a pet," Harry said quickly. "Teammate?"

The small professor blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"He doesn't like the term pet, in application with him," Harry whispered. "We're thinking about calling him a familiar."

"It's sentient?" the professor squeaked in surprise. An excited gleam came into his eye. "What exactly is it?"

Harry's mind searched for Evie's classic definition (because it was entirely too funny to not use). " _He_ is a class five full torso roaming vapor."

" _Eyeah!_ " Slimer agreed enthusiastically. " _Cwass fwive,_ " (here he devolved into a series of babbles) " _-vawpow!_ "

"Fascinating," the professor murmured. "Say, has anyone done any research-?"

"I'll have to stop you right there, Professor," Harry said quickly, because the last thing they needed was someone carting Slimer off. That would just end up a nasty headache. "Slimer has an exclusive contract, allowing him to only be studied by my fathers and anyone they give specific permission." Utter bullshit. But hey, it would protect Slimer. "However, they have published several papers on the subject, and I'd be happy to get you copies."

"Yes, that would… be much appreciated," the professor agreed. "Well, have a nice day, Harry. Slimer."

" _Bwye bwye!_ " Slimer cheered, waving after him.

He then immediately turned back to the food.

"Slimer, wait, that's not-! At least stay at the damned table! No! Shit!"

 **HP/RGB**

"Harry, we've already been down there."

"Have we?" Harry squinted at the rough map he and Evie were puzzling over. Hermione was in History Of Magic, but he and Evie had decided to give it a pass. For the rest of their lives. (They had glanced through the textbook, and Harry had declared it the most useless, racist drivel he'd ever read. And that was _Harry's_ opinion, not Evie's.)

"Yes, see? Slimer kissed that suit of armor."

Harry looked up, sure enough, at the dark green goo dripping from the armor's face. "That's _right_. Man, we should have him mark more of them. Leave us a trail."

"That sounds like a terrible idea."

"Why not? It worked for Hansel and Gretel."

"Mostly because you came up with it." Evie snatched the map from him. "This is a mess. We should have gone with my idea."

"What, to use the wards to make a map?" Harry asked. "That's boring. Exploring is so much more fun. Better for the glutes, too."

"Harry, do you realize my rune pouch has several stones that could explode with the force of a small bomb if detonated?" **(2)**

"Okay, okay, next time we go with your idea," Harry grumbled. He paused. "We're lost, aren't we."

"With your cartography skills? We've been lost for an hour."

"That's harsh," Harry sighed, before casting his eyes skyward. "Where do you think Slimer scampered off to?"

"No idea," Evie said. "Maybe the kitchens."

"Hm."

Both were abruptly distracted when music rang out in the hall. " _It's poetry in motion… She turned her tender eyes to me. As deep as any ocean… As sweet as any harmony-_ " **(3)**

"You changed my ringtone!" Evie accused, pulling her mobile out of her pocket.

"I admit to nothing," Harry said cheerfully. "But it is appropriate, isn't it?"

With a growl of frustration, Evie answered the phone. "Hello, Evie Spengler speaking."

She smiled at whatever was on the other line, then pulled the phone from her ear. "It's Uncle Egon. They just woke up over there. He wanted to say 'hi'."

Harry grinned. "Tell him I say we miss him."

"Harry misses you," Evie repeated into the phone. "He bawled his eyes out all night, so sad to be away from the fireho-"

She was cut off when Harry lunged for the phone, the two engaging in a brief wrestling match before he was able to yank it away.

"Evie is a liar, Dad!" Harry nearly shouted into the phone. "She doesn't know what she's ta-!"

That was when Evie tried to snatch the phone back and the match continued. Evie got control of the phone again.

"Harry loves you!" she teased. "He loves you sooo mu- agh!"

Harry yanked her back down, finally snatching the phone and jumping to his feet and away from her. "Lies! All vicious lies!"

" _Well, if the two of you are done with your fight, perhaps you'd like to hear what I found on the odd residuals Evie was picking up last night?_ "

"Residuals?" Harry asked, looking down at Evie. "You were picking up odd residuals last night, Spengs?"

"Yes," Evie sighed, climbing to her feet as she wiped her glasses. "It was hard to pin down anything, though. The shades and magic in the school mostly obscured it."

"Huh," Harry said, turning back to the phone. "Okay, Dad. Shoot."

" _We've got three separate readings,_ " Egon informed him. " _The first looks like a class four poltergeist floating around. It's definitely corporeal, so someone should know something about that. It's been around awhile. The next two actually have the same PK signature, but they're definitely in different locations._ "

"Two locations, one ghost?" Harry asked, glancing at Evie.

" _Not exactly. Two ghosts, one soul, if I'm not mistaken. The PK signature is also identical to the soul piece we took out of your scar when you first came to live with us._ "

"So, two more horcruxes," Harry realized.

Evie's face twisted in disgust as she heard that. "... _Ew._ "

" _Indeed_ ," Egon agreed. " _You'll definitely need to contain both of those and send them back to me as soon as you do. With three samples, I should be able to extrapolate the number of horcruxes this wizard made, as well as possibly even make a tracker for them. One that's more reliable than just a PKE meter._ "

"How can we send that to you?" Harry asked. After all, traps were a bit heavy for an owl.

" _Well, we didn't send Slimer along just so we wouldn't have to deal with him_." There was a touch of amusement in Egon's voice. " _He can move quite fast when he wants to. We still haven't had a chance to clock exactly how fast yet, though._ "

"We'll have to bribe him with something," Harry sighed. "But I think that'll work."

" _Excellent. Be careful. And don't forget to report anything else odd you hear back to us. I don't like the sound of that third floor corridor._ "

Harry shot a look at Evie. "Exactly how long did you talk to him last night?" he hissed.

Evie just shrugged.

"Yeesh," Harry muttered, before going back to the phone. "Alright, we will. Talk to you soon."

" _You as well._ " A pause. " _Harry… I…_ "

"Love you too, Dad," Harry said with a grin. Egon was still awkward with the softer emotions.

And he wouldn't have it any other way.

Hanging up, Harry passed the phone to Evie.

"So?" Evie asked.

"We've got a class four poltergeist on the loose and a couple of horcruxes around here belonging to the bastard who gave me my scar," Harry reported. "Dad says zap 'em and trap 'em."

"Sounds like a plan," Evie agreed. "Anything else?"

"Yeah, try not to die," Harry said cheerfully. "Seriously, who hides horcruxes in a school?"

 **HP/RGB**

In the end, it was Hermione who came to their rescue. Somehow, their wandering had taken them to the History of Magic classroom, just after it was letting out.

"How was it?" Harry asked as they fell into step with their new friend.

"Rather dull," Hermione admitted. "The teacher is a ghost, who's been teaching the same class for at least a century. He just got up one day to teach and left his body behind."

"That's awful," Evie sighed, waving her meter towards the classroom. "Yes, a class two repeating vapor. Awful thing to happen to a person."

"Well, say the word, and we'll take care of it," Harry said with a grin, waggling his fingers towards her.

Hermione rolled her eyes with a huff. "You can't just go busting ghosts that aren't causing a problem."

"Oh, we know," Harry assured her. "We don't. Usually."

"And when we do, we learn from our mistakes," Evie put in.

Hermione looked pale at that. "What? You're serious?"

"Oh, yeah," Harry said with a grin. "I mean, circumstances change. Slimer used to be a nasty little spud haunting the twelfth floor of a hotel. First call my dads ever got. They wrecked an entire ballroom."

"They cause quite a bit of property damage," Evie admitted.

"They've gotten better," Harry protested. "Anyways, after the containment unit blew, when they faced Gozer, the Traveller-slash-Destructor-"

"A primal god traced back to the Sumerians," Evie whispered to Hermione.

"-Slimer just stuck around the firehouse, and eventually just became part of the team," Harry finished with a shrug. "Of course, that's just the tip of the iceberg. There was the time with the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Future-"

"You're serious?" Hermione choked.

"Oh, yeah," Harry chuckled. "Nearly destroyed Christmas with that. Papa Egon actually had to travel into the containment unit to get them back." **(4)**

"That's awful!" Hermione cried.

"Well, they were pretty good about it, all things considered," Harry said with a shrug. "And Papa Ray has pictures of Papa Peter dressed up as the Ghost of Christmas Past."

"I saw those," Evie remembered with a grin. "The wig really suited him."

"I _know_ , right?"

Hermione shook her head. "It almost sounds like half the time they're making it up as they go along."

"They kind of have to," Harry pointed out. "They're the only ghost catching group there is. Sometimes things happen, things that they have no idea how to face, so it's either do their best, or let the world die."

"There's a new apocalyptic event on the horizon at least once a month," Evie added.

"Ghostbusters," Harry said with a grin. "Flying along by the seat of our pants since 1983."

"That's not the motto," Evie sighed.

"It _could_ be."

Hermione shook her head. "You're both terrible! Both of you!"

Harry exchanged a glance with Evie. It was a surprisingly serious one, considering the conversation, one filled with an unspoken question and answer.

"You know," Harry said, slinging an arm over Hermione's shoulders, "we could always use someone like you in on the team."

Hermione blinked at him, uncomprehending.

"I mean," Harry continued, "you need more to a Ghostbusting team than brains and a mouth. And you'd be great, really. Can't offer you an easy day, or anything, but there's fame and fun and travel."

Hermione managed to get enough of her mind back together to ask, "What, no fortune?"

"Ah, not so much," Harry admitted. "Lots of fun, though. I did mention the fun, right?"

Hermione frowned. "...I'll think about it."

Harry shot Evie a thumbs up behind Hermione's back, and mouthed, " _She's in_."

Evie nodded. "Well, we can't ask for any more than that."

 **HP/RGB**

Potions was actually something both Harry and Evie were looking forward to. Because it was a ritual based magic, it was a little odd that it hadn't been outlawed in Britain along with all the other magicks, but Harry had never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Unless it was from a ghost. Then there was always something attached.

Always.

But potions! Harry had learned a bit from Janine and Ray, as Ray was their ritual expert and knew more about potions than any of the others, and Janine had really enjoyed the subject, despite being about as good at it as she was at cooking.

Which wasn't much, but Harry learned a lot from her about what _not_ to do.

Actually, he learned a great deal from his parents on a number of subjects when it came to things _not_ to do. Hermione would probably be horrified to learn exactly how he'd learned that the seventh cardinal rule of Ghostbusting (Pants are not optional.) was not just up on the wall as a joke. That had… been a scarring experience.

No, seriously, Peter still had the scar.

But regardless of his parents' child rearing capabilities (or lack thereof), potions was a class he was actually looking forward to, because it was interesting. It was challenging. It was maddeningly precise and just a little bit scientific.

And then he entered the dungeon room.

" _Anshargal_ , these people like their ambiance," Harry complained.

Hermione glanced at him in confusion before deciding it was probably better not to ask.

The room was dimly lit, the walls were dirty with obvious age, and even the student benches looked practically ancient.

"I am suddenly torn between being amused or appalled," Evie confided, scanning the room with wide eyes. "There is… I…"

"She's actually speechless," Harry commented with a grin. "That never happens."

The three found places to sit next to each other, and began to take out their things. Harry placed his cauldron in the proper place, and pulled out a notebook and pen to take notes. Next to him, Evie was pulling out several runestones and arranging them in different positions around her space.

"So, why exactly is this room so bad?" Hermione asked curiously.

"A potions lab should be like any other laboratory," Harry explained. "It's sometimes considered a branch of science, and the slightest mistake can cause something to literally go up in flames. Or melt. Or explode. Magic can make things a bit… volatile. But this room has no venting, poor lighting, and just look at how dirty it is!"

"It would see a typical lab condemned," Evie added absently. She carefully shifted one of her stones by a few millimeters. "It's more akin to a meth lab than a proper one."

"Yeah, I hope the teacher is at least decent," Harry said with a sardonic smile. "Otherwise I'm wiping my hands of this class as well."

As he finished the last syllable, the doors to the classroom flew open with a loud _bang_ , and the greasy haired professor they'd met their first night swept in.

"...So far, I'm not optimistic," Harry muttered.

The man stopped at the desk at the front of the room, next to a large blackboard, where he took role call.

And stopped at Harry's name.

"Ah, yes, Mister _Potter_ ," he sneered. Harry raised an eyebrow, having never heard quite that much disdain packed into his surname before. "Our new… _celebrity_."

Harry grinned at that, but didn't say anything.

Tearing his dark eyes from Harry's, he returned to the list of names, shooting only Evie a suspicious glance as well, before finishing and setting down the list.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began coolly. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here-" (Here Evie gave a quick fist pump below the table.) "-many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron, with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses… I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even put a stopper in death-if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually teach."

Okay, this class had potential, Harry could admit that. He was excited. It had been a few months since he'd last done potions with Ray, and usually the potions they focused on were of the exorcism variety…

"Potter!" the man snapped suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"Ah…" Harry cast his mind back to a day he had been learning potions with Janine, and she had combined some variant of both (though he couldn't remember just how they were prepared). The resulting fumes had knocked out half a block before someone was able to make it to the lab and dispose of the mess. "Sleeping potion. Powerful sleeping potion."

The professor seemed slightly taken aback by the correct answer, but immediately flung another one. "Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Ooh! Ray had shown him that one the time they'd gone to visit the farm he'd grown up at. Very enthusiastically.

He'd ended up vomiting and Janine had shouted at Ray for twenty minutes and made him sleep on the couch. (They weren't sure when exactly she'd gained the authority to make them do that, but no one ever argued with her when she was in a mood.)

But hey, it was coming in handy now!

"Stomach of an animal," Harry said cheerfully. "But the ones most commonly used by the magical community of Britain is found in a goat's stomach. It's known to cure most poisons, but not all, and does have to be magically treated first."

(He had not eaten the goat they had for dinner the night after Ray's demonstration.)

The professor's eyes narrowed at the extensive answer. "What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Oh, that one he knew. It was important to know all sorts of weaknesses of magical creatures that they may come across, and werewolves were one his fathers had already (unfortunately) faced.

"They're the same plant, sir, usually known as aconite, a highly toxic flowering plant found in many locations, including gardens, around Europe, most notably, Britain. They should be handled with care, as even touch can contract the poison through the skin, though that will usually show up in the form of a bright red rash." **(5)**

"Arrogant, Potter, aren't you?" the professor asked coldly. "To come in and think you already know everything?"

"Well," Harry said with a lazy grin, "if I thought I knew everything, sir, would I even be here?"

This got a few chuckles from his classmates, but the professor's dark look grew even darker. "Ten points from Ravenclaw, Potter, for cheek." He spun to jab his wand at the board, and instructions wrote themselves out in white chalk. "Instructions are on the board. Begin."

There was a moment of silence. A few students reached for their things, while others prepared to go gather the needed ingredients, but then-

"...Are you serious?" Evie asked.

The man's head snapped to her.

"Just, 'instructions are on the board, begin'?" she demanded. "What the hell kind of teaching style is that? No, 'here's the ingredients', or 'here's how they interact', or anything? Just, do it yourself and sink or swim? _This_ is the best Britain can do?"

She hadn't raised her voice, but it carried, the incredulous tone filling the dungeon room.

"You question my methods, Miss Spengler?" the professor asked quietly, voice dangerous.

"I question, with an attitude like that, whether you should be teaching at all," she said, voice matching his. "I was hoping to learn something, but it's clear you don't teach, you _scorn_."

"Yeah, this place is a mess," Harry agreed. "Any sanitation department worth their salt would shut this place down in a heartbeat. And that's coming from _me_. I've spent days wading through _sewers_ in better shape than this place."

And he would really have to revisit this classroom later, when it was empty, to check for anything growing in the corners. Egon would be _thrilled_ to discover a new type of magical mold.

But the professor just sneered. "How typical, Potter. Your ego knows no bounds. You think, because you're famous, you're some kind of god?"

"Is he even paying attention?" Evie asked. But Harry was already answering, never losing his grin.

"Well… _yeah_."

And that was how Harry first found himself dragged to Dumbledore's office.

 **HP/RGB**

Okay, yes, he could be a brat. He knew that. Absolutely.

The thing was, he hadn't _been_ being a brat.

So it was a little insulting that this ass of a professor had dragged him to the headmaster's office and proceeded to lay into exactly how he had offended the man by merely existing, and how he was an arrogant strutting child, just like his father, for _twenty fucking minutes._

"Okay!" Harry finally shouted, getting fed up with it. "First off, I don't strut. Second off, don't compare me to a man I never knew. My dads are in New York, and James Potter died ten years ago, _so let it fucking go._ And thirdly, _I'm_ not the problem here! Did I mortally offend you by actually knowing potions, or something?"

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at that. "You know potions, Harry?"

"Don't call me that," Harry snapped instinctively. He didn't like the old man. "And yeah, I learned some potions. Not enough to be an expert, or anything, but enough to know a horrid teacher when I see one."

"I am not-!" the man roared, but Harry cut him off.

"And seriously, I wasn't even the one to call you on it! Evie was! I just backed her up, so why the hell did you drag me up here and not her?"

At that moment, the door exploded off its hinges, blasting across the office. Harry ducked out of the way as it smashed into the desk.

Evie stood framed in the doorway, smoke rising off the runestone in her hand.

"I'm sorry," she said sweetly. "The door was locked. And I'm supposed to stick by Harry, no matter what."

She stepped into the office, her runestone slipping back into her pocket, as she stood behind Harry. "Now, what exactly seems to be the problem?"

"Miss Spengler," Dumbledore said, trying to gain control of the situation. "I'm afraid there's been a misunderstanding."

"Yes, there has been," Evie agreed. "You let this man teach potions. And believe me, I use that term in the very loosest sense of the word."

"Teach, or potions?" Harry asked, sitting back down calmly, as though the door was not now buried in a half disintegrated desk.

Evie thought for a moment. "Both, I suppose."

"Miss Spengler, Severus has been teaching at this school for nearly ten years now," Dumbledore said firmly. "He has my absolute trust."

"I trust Slimer," Evie said. "That doesn't mean I'm going to let him teach nuclear physics. Tell me, _Professor_ Dumbledore, what is the first thing a student should learn when it comes to potions?"

Dumbledore tried to smile. "My dear-"

"Don't patronize me," Evie said, tone suddenly turning to ice. "I have an IQ higher than anyone else in this room, and that's _not_ just me saying things. I, at the age of eleven, know more about runic magicks than you probably ever will. And I possess an excellent understanding of potions. Now, what is the first thing a student should learn in a potions class?"

"I don't-" Dumbledore began, but Evie cut him off again.

"Let me explain," she said suddenly. "I may not like the subject, but I can't deny Professor McGonagall is outstanding at her craft. The first lesson, as it was reported to me, consisted of a demonstration of what was possible in the future, a lecture on theory and dangers of transfiguration gone wrong, and then-and _only_ then-an attempt at an actual spell. Professor Flitwick spent his entire first class on demonstrations of charms gone right, and tales of what could happen if you don't focus.

"Now, potions is a ritual based magick. Don't give me that look, we don't outlaw nearly as much in America as you do here. Ritual magick is one of the most tricky of the magicks, with some of the best rewards but some of the steepest potential consequences. Potions is the same. Very powerful if done right, _deadly_ if gone wrong, and not always just for the brewer. The very first thing any teacher with a first time student should do is begin by explaining _basic safety precautions_.

"Potions is more than just throwing ingredients together and hoping for the best. A good teacher would explain what ingredients were in the potion, what they are there for, and how they interact. They would explain what doing things incorrectly could lead to. _They do not just write instructions on the board and tell a Classroom Full Of Students To GET ON WITH IT!_ "

By the time she finished, Evie was breathing hard, eyes full of fury. There were few things that could get her truly angry, but an incompetent teacher that could potentially threaten the lives of his students was definitely one of them.

Even Dumbledore was taken aback by her sudden outburst.

"I… I'm not sure what to say, Miss Spengler."

"I will have you know, that regardless of the outcome here, I will be reporting this serious breach in both etiquette and safety to the American Covens," she said, voice slowly returning to its previous pleasant tone. "They… dislike disasters such as this, even if it is in another country."

"Go, _Evie_ ," Harry muttered, trying very hard to keep the grin off of his face. It wasn't working.

Dumbledore turned pale at that. "Miss Spengler, I'm sure that's not necessary…"

"We'll see," Evie allowed, finally turning to the potions professor. "Anything to add, Professor Snape?"

Ah, right! That was his name! Harry was so bad with names.

"This… _boy_ ," Snape nearly spat, "actually claimed to be a _god_."

"Well, of _course_ I did," Harry said easily. "It's in the rules."

"The rules?" Dumbledore asked.

"The ten cardinal rules of ghostbusting," Harry explained, leaning back in his chair and swinging his feet up onto the broken desk. "Rule number one: never ghostbust alone. That's why Evie's here. And Slimer, I suppose."

"Rule number two," Evie recited. "Don't cross the streams."

"Rule number three," Harry continued, "Maintain your equipment."

"Rule number four," Evie went on, "Don't forget to empty your traps."

"Rule number five," Harry said, "Slimer is a friend. No matter what Papa Peter's mad about this time."

"Rule number six," Evie added, "We are scientists first."

"Rule number seven," Harry recited, "Pants are not optional. And wasn't that a fun one to find out."

"Rule number eight," Evie cut in, rolling her eyes, "Don't mess with Melnitz."

"She's the secretary, and you don't want to make her angry," Harry explained quickly. "You won't like her when she's angry. Rule number nine: Trust your teammates, and don't betray their trust in you."

"And number ten," Evie said, before they finished together.

" _If someone asks if you're a god, YOU SAY 'YES'!_ "

"You only make that mistake once," Harry added, still grinning. "And if you survive nearly being thrown off a building by a pissed off primal god, you never make it again."

"You don't want to know," Evie advised.

"Oh, we'll be dropping potions, by the way," Harry added. "Just so you know. Papa Ray teaches so much better."

"He is recognized as one of the top potioneers on the east coast," Evie agreed with a shrug.

"Really?" Dumbledore asked, not having known that.

"Oh, yes," Harry said with a grin. He glanced at Snape. "Maybe you've heard of him. Doctor Raymond Stantz?"

Snape choked on air. Stantz was known not just for his potioneering contributions, but also his ritualistic work. It may have been banned in Britain, but that didn't mean Snape hadn't read up on it anyways. He'd always liked the Dark Arts.

"Anyways, we should be getting to Defense," Harry continued, heading for the door. "We still haven't decided if we're dropping that one or not."

As they left, the two professors caught Evie's next words.

"If it's all wand shit, then I'm not going…"

Dumbledore sighed. It was disappointing the girl held such disdain for light magic. Clearly, she was going dark, and so young, too! And dragging Harry along with her, no doubt.

But something would have to be done.

Soon.

 **HP/RGB**

"Evie," Harry said as they reached the bottom of the staircase, "have I ever told you how awesome you are?"

"On several occasions," Evie agreed. "Though you could certainly stand to do it more often."

 **A/N:**

 **(1) Harry is really bad with names.** ** _Really_** **bad. This will be touched upon more later.**

 **(2) Evie will occasionally threaten Harry in the same way Egon threatens Peter. It's really too funny not to do. One of my favorites involves Peter being an ass, and Egon responding: "Peter, do you know how to set your pack on explosive overload?" "...No." "Well,** ** _I do_** **." The response is usually Peter backing off very quickly. Egon is very creative when it comes to threats.**

 **(3) Yes, Harry changed Evie's ringtone to "She Blinded Me With Science". That would be out by then. Even if cell phones with changeable ring tones** ** _weren't_** **. But hey, like I said, I kind went "screw you" to the time line. Plus, the music was too perfect to not use.**

 **(4) Episode "X-Mas Marks the Spot". I would recommend it, if only for the first look inside the containment unit and Peter in a wig. Of course, I'd recommend "If I Were A Witch Man" for the same reason... (And Egon color codes his makeup. Who knew?)**

 **(5) Wolfsbane is also shown to ward off ghosts in the episode "Til Death Do Us Part". Which I would also recommend, if only because watching Slimer trying to pretend to be a dead Egon is one of the funniest fucking things I've ever seen. Also, the first look at Mrs. Spengler. Who will kick your ass and then offer you a nice cup of tea. (Evie's a lot like her.)**

 **Right, I think that's everything. Please review if you liked! Or if you didn't. I'm okay with constructive criticism. Thanks for reading!**


	5. Chapter 4

**Oh my gosh, a new chapter! And look, I made a cover! Got a bit cut off when I was transferring it over, but I'm still proud. Done in the style of the cartoon, too, so WOO! (And yes, I made it myself, so I'm going to brag.)**

 **Right, and time for my rant. It's pretty much a thing I have to do now, not that I think anyone pays much attention to it, but that's okay, because it's still fun to write.**

 **Today: PKE meters.**

 **Okay, that may have been a bad way to start out. So, a while ago, I was trying to accurately classify ghosts according to the class levels they should have when scanned with a PKE meter. So I was watching the cartoon, and in the very first episode, they face a ghost they claim is "right at the top of the scale", and a "full class ten".**

 **So, you'd think that it's a pretty simple matter of okay, so it's on a scale of one to ten, with Slimer falling right in the middle as a class five, right? Not so much. Because then I dug out my copy of Tobin's (yes I own a copy-stop laughing!) and it was classifying Stay Puft as a class seven. In fact, all the highest ranked ghosts were class sevens. Which kind of conflicted with the whole one to ten scale. (And then, to make things worse, EGB at two separate times, fight what they refer to as "a class C ghost" and "a class thirteen ghost", and who the hell knows what was going on with that?)**

 **That... kind of threw a wrench in my plans before I realized, "Hey! They were written by different people!" So, I'm going with the RGB one to ten scale, with the occasional super powerful off the scale primal god type ghost. (Besides, I don't care what they say, if it's only a scale to seven, there's no** ** _way_** **Slimer's a class five.) In the end, I decided the one to ten scale goes up exponentially, which explains Slimer, and I figured the Hogwarts ghosts could be class twos: unable to do much besides talk. Class ones are then mostly ghosts that can't fully manifest, and Peeves seems about a class four. Just below Slimer.**

 **Rant over.**

 **Anyways, thanks for all the great reviews!**

Chapter Four: In Which There is a Troll and Harry Loves Flying

Time passed.

Harry and Evie continued to attend classes only sporadically. Herbology was the only one they attended with any regularity. That, and Evie sat in on the seventh year Arithmancy classes.

"Not quite up to my speed, but at least it's not totally boring," Evie had said.

Hermione had at first pressed them on not going. And then Evie started teaching her runes and suddenly that didn't seem so important any more.

But this didn't mean Evie and Harry weren't busy. Sure, they weren't going to Hogwarts classes, but Harry could often be found on his computer (wasn't video messaging the best?) during class hours, as Ray or Egon (or occasionally Peter or Winston) gave a much more difficult lecture. Evie sometimes joined him, and other times was busy with her own college course work.

Hermione once asked Harry why he didn't attend any other classes. After all, she reasoned, he didn't hate focus casting nearly as much as Evie.

Harry had laughed before explaining.

"This isn't real focus casting. Not _really_. A good focus caster doesn't need words or motions, they just need to, as the name implies, _focus._ Training eventually allows them to push their magic through the focus of choice and form it into spells. What you learn here is some bizarre combination of focus (because of the wand), ritualistic (because of the movement), and verbal (because of the words) casting. It's ridiculous, not very powerful, and kind of an insult to real casting."

So, he continued to not attend classes and not use his wand, despite it being strapped to his forearm at nearly all times. After all, he knew some "real" focus casting, so in a pinch, he could still defend himself if the situation called for it. It just never really did.

There were a few students (mostly those in green) who tried to taunt Harry and Evie for their uniforms (which now read _Spengler_ and _Potter_ ) or for their lack of proper wizarding decorum, or even because of Slimer (who had near taken up residence in the kitchens but could still be see out exploring frequently). This didn't work well, as Harry had heard worse insults all his life and was proud of who he was, and Evie was just perpetually oblivious when it came to other people's feelings.

They gave up after a while.

Harry's lectures were a curious thing. Half the time he got them, the lecturer was on a bust. Which led to some very fun situations. And a good portion being unexpectedly cut off when something nasty happened to the guys on the other side of the conversation.

He didn't usually worry, though. They always got out of it.

And then, Halloween came.

Halloween was a rather… _interesting_ holiday when it came to the Ghostbusters. Something usually went horribly wrong, and they had to fix it. Plus, Harry's parents had been murdered on Halloween.

On the other hand, there was candy. So it kind of evened out.

As it turned out, this Halloween would not be much different.

"Hey, guys," Harry said, plopping down at the Ravenclaw table between Hermione and Evie, and breaking up a conversation he would no doubt have found boring. "What's up?"

He had been disappointed to discover that Hogwarts had no costumes, but there was a big Halloween feast, which was alright, if not as good. At least it had candy.

"I wasn't expecting you down for another half hour," Evie frowned. "I thought Uncle Ray was teaching you about the old Samhain traditions."

"He _was_ , but there was an incident in a mechanical warehouse and his proton pack is currently trying to eat him." Harry glanced up the table, where one of the pumpkins was filled with chocolate. "Hey! Can you pass that over here, please?!"

"I hope you took notes, then," Evie sighed. "At least then you can figure out where he left off."

"You're not worried about him being eaten?" Hermione asked.

"Nah, he'll be fine," Harry assured, grabbing a handful of the chocolates as the pumpkin reached him. "I'm just surprised it's so tame. Halloween can get nasty."

"All Hallows Eve is the night the veil between the worlds of the living and dead is at it's weakest," Evie told Hermione, who scowled (as she'd already known that). "But it is only two thirty over there."

"Right," Harry agreed. "Plenty of time for it to all go to hell." He ladled himself a big scoop of pudding from a floating cauldron as it drifted by and proceeded to scoop a generous portion into his mouth.

Hermione looked sickened. "Aren't you going to eat anything even half decent?"

Harry blinked up at her in surprise. "What? No! It's Halloween!"

He glanced over to Evie. "Speaking of the world of the dead, have you seen Slimer? I don't see him dive bombing the Slytherins for their candy, so I assume he's not here."

"I _knew_ you were the one to teach him to do that!" Hermione accused.

"And I still deny all knowledge of it," Harry shot back with a grin.

"Slimer's flying back to New York to celebrate Halloween over there," Evie explained. "I understand they've picked him out a costume-a sheet, with eye holes." Harry held back a snicker. "He should be picking up a book of mine, as well. He'll probably get back tomorrow afternoon."

"That's fast," Hermione said, raising her eyebrows.

"Faster than an owl," Evie agreed. "Ghosts can move quite rapidly."

"My dads keep meaning to test how fast he can go, but they keep getting sidetracked," Harry said with a grin. "But they'll get the numbers one of these days."

"Half the problem is determining _how_ ," Evie added. "From what I can find, a radar gun would be a little…"

"So, have you heard what the entertainment is supposed to be?" Harry asked, cutting off Evie's technical explanation. "They have something every year, according to the upper years."

"You asked?" Hermione questioned, surprised. Harry didn't socialize much. Or at all, really.

"No, I eavesdropped," Harry returned. He took another bite of pudding. "Have you tried this stuff? It's delicious."

Hermione looked slightly ill at the thought.

"By the way, I didn't see you in Transfiguration today," Harry continued. "Which was very sad. I go through all the trouble of showing up, only to find my favorite partner has gone AWOL. What's up with that?"

Hermione turned red. "I…"

"I found her in the girl's bathroom halfway through that period," Evie said. "She'd been crying after one of the Gryffindors insulted her in charms."

"That bastard-slash-bitch," Harry frowned. "What for?"

"I corrected him, when he was having trouble with one of the spells, and… he told me there was a reason I didn't have any friends," Hermione said softly, eyes lowering.

"Bastard, then," Harry determined. He glanced at Evie. "Which one?"

"The idiot redhead who tried to beat Slimer in an eating contest last week," Evie answered.

"Oh, _him_ ," Harry scoffed, waving a hand dismissively. "Well, we already knew he was an idiot, then. Anyone can see we're friends, even if we aren't always in class with you."

Hermione, eyes tearing up slightly, nearly jumped at him to wrap her arms around him.

Harry looked helplessly at Evie, who was focused on carving a new runestone. "I thought you would have already explained this to her in the bathroom?"

"I thought it was obvious," Evie said with a shrug. "I just spent most of my time explaining why she shouldn't put any stock in the opinion of a jealous, menial, moronic little twit."

Harry considered that for a moment. "Okay, yes, equally important. Next time remember that you should also heal the disease, not just tell it that it doesn't exist."

Evie blinked. "I… had not considered it from that angle."

" 'S okay, Spengs, I know you're not good with people." Harry patted Hermione on the back. "Seriously, Hermione, we like you. You're awesome. You're funny. Okay, maybe not exactly funny. But you're sensible. Sometimes you need someone sensible to knock you over the head and tell you when you're being stupid. Like, say, telling someone who insults a friend of yours that he made a serious mistake."

Harry paused a moment, suddenly scowling. "You sure Slimer's not gonna make it back before tomorrow?"

Evie shrugged. "Sorry, Harry."

Hermione giggled lightly as she pulled away from him. "Thanks, Harry. I… I needed that."

"Any time. I'm always happy for hugs. Unless your name is Slimer, and then you can go hug Papa Peter."

Evie hid a snort.

"Hey, we should have an adventure!" Harry declared. "That what we need. An adventure. I mean, it gets a little boring, just being in class. And I haven't been on a bust in two months! That's ridiculous."

"Well, I suppose we have been meaning to check out the third floor corridor," Evie mused.

"Why haven't we done that yet?" Harry asked. "It seems like we should have done that before now."

Evie shrugged. "We've been busy."

"Yeah, but with _boring_ stuff," Harry protested. "We haven't been busy with anything _interesting_."

"On the contrary, I find working on new equations to help pinpoint the source of the PK residuals I've been picking up to be very interesting," Evie returned, raising an eyebrow. "I may have most of the background fuzz cleared out by the end of the week." **(1)**

Harry made a choking sound. "Math… No… Hermione, help!"

"Have you considered using anything you picked up in Arithmancy?" Hermione asked. "I know they have several refining equations they use for divining the future."

"Yes, but I don't have anything quite strong enough there," Evie answered. "I've mostly been using equations scientists use for picking up reflected light waves in space-"

"Cruel," Harry sighed dramatically. "You're both so cruel. It hurts. Right here." He pointed at his chest.

"We should be able to finally track down the school poltergeist soon," Evie offered.

"Good luck with that," Hermione advised. "Apparently, Peeves heard you were here from the other ghosts and is actively avoiding you."

"Aw…" Harry groaned. "We can't bust him if he doesn't give us a reason!"

"I'm pretty sure half the students in the school (if not all of them) would be happy to give you a reason," Hermione assured.

"Okay, it's settled, then!" Harry declared, clapping his hands. "At the end of the week, we go on a poltergeist bust! We can come up with a plan of attack by then, provided nothing more _interesting_ " (here he cast a slightly disgusted look at Evie) "distracts us."

That was when the doors of the Great Hall burst open.

 **HP/RGB**

"Troll!"

The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor (Harry had forgotten his name. Quibble? Squirrel? Something like that.) came running down the hall at top speed, shouting excitedly. "Troll, in the dungeons!"

He came to a stop just past the middle of the hall.

"Thought you might like to know," he finished weakly, before his eyes rolled up in the back of his head, and he collapsed onto the floor.

There was a moment of silence.

And then it was broken. But… not in the way one would expect.

"WOO HOO!"

Every eye turned to the Ravenclaw table, where Harry Potter punched a fist into the air. "Troll in the dungeons! Best Halloween ever!"

"Really?" Hermione asked.

"Nah, there was a thing with a demon once," Harry admitted as he stood up and started pulling his robes off. "But my boredom has been alleviated! Come on, Evie!"

Tossing his robes over his shoulder, Harry caught Evie's arm and dragged her out of the hall. Hermione followed not even a second later.

Dumbledore, who had been about to protest, found his words dying on his lips. What kind of first year wanted to actively search out and stop a troll?

Clearly, the fact that he was even wondering pointed to the truth that he had lost touch with his students a very long time ago.

 **HP/RGB**

"So, we go in and hit it full stream!" Harry told Evie, finishing his brilliant plan as the latter finished pulling off her robes. Like him, anticipating some sort of Halloween disaster, she had worn her uniform underneath.

"That's a terrible idea," she informed him without hesitation.

"What makes you say that?" Harry asked. "It's pretty par for the course, isn't it?"

"First off, we don't know what kind of troll it is," Evie began. "It could be an intelligent one. If so, we should first try to communicate. Secondly, all trolls have one of two types of reactions when hit with a proton stream. They either turn to stone, or get bigger and meaner." **(2)**

Harry opened his mouth. And then closed it again. And then opened it again. "So… we don't know which?"

"Haven't a clue, until we see it," Evie admitted.

"Well, damn," Harry frowned.

"Are you seriously still going to go find it?" Hermione asked, looking between the two of them. "Knowing that?"

"Well, of course we are," Harry said, as though it were obvious. "We're Ghostbusters. That's what we do."

"Press the big red button to see what happens," Evie explained, lip twitching slightly.

"Very true, unfortunately," Harry agreed. "Seriously, never put a big red button on anything Papa Peter's ever around. Ever." He paused. "Or Papa Ray, for that matter." Another pause. "Or Papa Egon." A final pause. "Really, Papa Winston's the only one with any sense."

"Okay, but we do need some sort of plan," Hermione reminded him.

She missed the "we" bit, but Harry didn't. It made him grin. "Sure. Hey, Evie, how's your Trollish?"

"Not as good as I'd like," Evie admitted. "Yours?"

"I only know a few phrases," Harry sighed. "But we can give it a shot, right?"

"You speak Trollish?" Hermione demanded.

"Only a little," Harry said quickly. "It's actually a rather complex language, though most of magical Britain doesn't seem to think so, for whatever reason." **(3)**

"I cannot _believe_ you told me the other day that French was a useless language!" Hermione hissed. "And you speak _Trollish!_ "

"And I stand by that statement," Harry agreed.

"That _French_ is more useless than _Trollish_?!"

"Well, French is never going to save me from being eaten by a troll," Harry explained.

Hermione made a motion like she was strangling the air in front of her.

"I'm surprised you picked up Trollish," Evie commented. "Languages aren't really your area, are they?"

"Nah, but I picked some up from a friend of my dads' in Chicago," Harry said with a shrug. "Nice guy. Joined up with a circus not long after we met. He's getting to be a pretty famous acrobat."

"A… No, I'm not going to ask," Hermione decided.

"Probably a good idea," Harry agreed. He glanced over to Evie. "We getting anything on the meter?"

"I've got something on the meter," Evie agreed. "Readings consistent with a troll. Ready to go?"

"Yes!" Harry cheered. He pulled out his thrower and powered up his pack.

"Harry…" Evie said warningly.

"Yes, yes, don't shoot him," Harry parroted back. "Because he might get bigger and meaner. Now that we've established that, can we _go_?"

Evie rolled her eyes, but moved the PKE meter around as she tried to get a fix in a certain direction. It took a minute to pick up, but she pointed.

"That way. I think it's made its way out of the dungeons."

"Ooh…" Harry grinned, running off, Hermione and Evie sticking close behind him.

Evie led them through the halls of the first floor, and it didn't take long before the three could smell something foul on the air.

"Urgh," Hermione groaned, wrinkling her nose. "What _is_ that?"

"Troll," Harry almost sang. "It's troll stench! We're getting close!"

"Shh!" Evie hissed. Her head was tilted as she suddenly grabbed both of them and yanked them back into an alcove in the wall.

"Ev-!"

Harry's cried was cut off when Evie slapped a hand over his mouth. "Shh!" she hissed again.

Harry grew still when he heard it. A low moan, and a deep thudding.

Footsteps.

The three peeked from the alcove to see down the hall, passing in another direction, a massive, monstrous, grotesque figure.

"Mountain Troll," Harry and Evie breathed at the same time.

"And?" Hermione whispered to the two of them.

"Well, the throwers will turn him to stone, for sure," Evie replied quietly. "But we should still try talking to him first."

"Aw…" Harry sighed. "Okay. Who wants to go first?"

 **HP/RGB**

Heading off the troll was not as difficult as one might think. While Harry's cartography skills were still terrible, Evie had succeeded (after a week of hard work) in tapping into the wards to create a three dimensional map.

She said, at some point, she wanted to do more, but the map, as it was, would work for now.

So they were able to head back down the hall, down another passage, and make it back to where the troll was going to stand in front of him.

This was enough to make the troll pause. It wasn't used to people facing off against it.

It was also enough to bring the trio of students up short. Because _there was a fucking big troll in the middle of the hall._ **(4)**

There was a moment where no one moved, and they all just stared at each other.

"Say something, Evie," Harry advised.

Evie cleared her throat and let loose a series of guttural consonants.

"What did you say?" Hermione asked.

"We come in peace…" Evie said slowly. "I think…"

The troll hesitated longer, clearly not used to knowing anyone who could speak the language. It then replied, in the same harsh tongue.

"Okay, that was bad, right?" Harry asked worriedly.

"Yes, I think he just told us he would roast our entrails," Evie said, voice shaking slightly. "I don't suppose you want to give it a shot?"

"Uh…" Harry pointed behind the troll and shouted out a phrase. Whatever it was, the troll turned to look.

"Light him up!" Harry declared, firing his thrower. Evie was only a second behind him.

Within moments, the particle beams had turned the furious looking troll to stone.

"Whew," Harry panted, switching off the beam. "What a rush! Anyone know if there's a giant out there looking for a garden statue?"

Hermione, who looked on the verge of collapse, smacked the back of his head.

"Ow!"

"I think someone else can clear this up, now that the danger's gone," Evie declared, scanning the immobilized troll with her PKE meter. "Yes, this shouldn't wear down for another two hundred years, at least. Shattering should take care of that. But we'll let the so called experts decided what to do with a suspended troll."

"Harry," Hermione said weakly, "exactly what did you say to it?"

"Well…" Harry began, scratching the back of his head, "I said I only knew a few phrases, right? Like, 'don't go that way', or 'where's the toilet?', or 'I shall gift you with death'."

"Yes…?" Hermione pressed.

"So I pointed and shouted, 'The party's down there!' and hoped for the best."

There was a long pause.

"...You said, 'The party's down there,'," Hermione repeated dully.

"Yes," Harry agreed.

"And you _hoped for the best_ ," Hermione continued.

"Well, I wasn't going to hope for the worst," Harry argued.

"It's a rather eclectic collection of phrases," Evie mused.

"I had a rather eclectic teacher," Harry pointed out. "He lived in Chicago. And now he's an acrobat."

That was the moment the teachers came barrelling around the corner. Harry recognized McGonagall, Flitwick, Snape, and the Squirrel dude. At the sight of the troll, Squirrel sat down, hard.

"Mister Potter, Miss Spengler, Miss Granger," McGonagall said sharply. "Just _what_ do you think you were doing?!"

"We were busting a troll," Harry said with a grin. He dug into his pouch, finally coming up with a pad of paper and a pen. "All other questions can be directed to Evie."

The teachers turned to Evie, who stood tall and clasped her hands behind her back.

"You troll has been exposed to an excessive amount of proton energy, thereby inducing a state of suspended animation, allowing for easy keeping or disposal," she recited. "The state should stay constant for approximately two hundred years, which is plenty of time to decide what you wish to do with it. Of course, we would be happy to dispose of it for you… for an additional fee."

"You might have been killed!" McGonagall scolded. "Just what gave you the impression you could take down a troll?!"

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time," Harry muttered, still jotting things down, thinking for a moment, and then jotting down more.

"I assure you, Professor, Harry and I are well equipped to take down a single troll," Evie said firmly. "You needn't worry on that front."

Harry finished his writing and tore the top piece of paper from the pad. He handed it to McGonagall. "Our invoice."

That threw her. "Your what?"

"Invoice. For the troll. We do this for a living, you know," Harry mock sighed, shaking his head. "Besides, it's in the contract we signed to come to this school. Dumbledore's aware of it. Any other questions? No? We'll be going back to our tower, then. I, for one, always need a shower after a nasty bust."

The three walked past the speechless teachers, on their way to Ravenclaw tower.

"It wasn't that nasty," Hermione whispered to Harry.

"Oh, I know," he agreed. "But I still want a shower."

"You did remember to put in the pristine condition surcharge?" Evie asked. "For the lack of property damage?" **(5)**

"Course I did," Harry grumbled. "Like I'd forget a charge."

Hermione placed a hand to her head. "You completely gouged them, didn't you?"

"Well, duh," Harry said with a grin. " _Ilu_ , I love my job."

 **HP/RGB**

Reactions following the troll incident were… mixed. Half the school thought they were insane. The other half were more in awe than anything else.

Harry basked in the attention. It was like being back home, the constant looks that were a mix of admiration, incredulation, and condemnation.

Of course, it did start to get wearing after a time. One plus when it came to New York was that it was a simple matter to disappear into the crowds for a little bit.

It was not a luxury he could enjoy at Hogwarts.

But he was good at brushing things off. Harry had a thick skin-it was impossible to be a Ghostbuster and not develop one.

It was impossible to live in _New York_ and not develop one.

Still, life went on. And Harry soon found there was one other class, not Herbology, that he would attend with regularity.

 _Flying._

Now, Harry had never flown on a broom before. He had, however, learned to fly the Ecto-2, and was certainly the best at it. Ray still hadn't taken any lessons, to Peter's exasperation, and Harry could manage a much smoother landing. He planned to get his pilot's license as soon as he was old enough.

But there was no requirement on a _training_ age… It was a bit of a loophole, but none of the Ghostbusters felt bad about exploiting it. After all, if it was either let an eight-year-old fly the gyrocopter, or prepare for a potentially fiery crash… well, that wasn't much of a choice, was it?

So, when Harry discovered that they actually gave lessons on flying to first years, he jumped at the chance.

Though, that was really an understatement. He was beyond excited. He was obsessed. He was…

Happy to rant on about it to whomever he could corner at the time.

At the moment, it was a rather unimpressed looking Winston, who had been _trying_ to give him a lesson on philosophy. It had been sidetracked about three minutes in.

That had been an hour ago.

"...And I mean, it's _flying_!" Harry enthused. "I'm going to have to get a broomstick! Evie's going to help me modify it so I can fly it with no hands and use a proton pack, but that'll probably take practice, but can you just imagine how useful that would be, and what if we-?"

Winston forced a laugh. "Well, sport, maybe you should focus on actually learning to fly one, first."

"I'm going to be doing that later today!" Harry announced with a fevered glee, not caring that he'd said as much thirty-seven times now.

"So you've said," Winston said dryly. "Repeatedly."

"I'm so excited!" Harry almost squealed.

"Yes, I can see-" Winston was cut off by the sound of an explosion. He looked behind him, and Harry could hear shouting in the background.

"Urbat!- _Ray, get the fire extinguisher!_ "

Winston seized the moment to get away. "Sorry, Harry, I have to go!"

The feed cut off, leaving Harry looking at a blank screen. He sighed, but closed the computer and tucked it back in his school bag.

Then he grinned and looked at his watch. _Three hours until they were flying!_

 **HP/RGB**

"You know, it's odd," Hermione commented as they headed down to the field where they'd be learning. "I could have sworn we were supposed to have this lesson earlier. I mean, the Gryffindors and Slytherins had theirs over a month and a half ago." **(6)**

Evie and Harry exchanged slightly guilty glances.

"Who knows why they do these things?" Harry asked. "At least we get to do this now?"

Unfortunately for him, Hermione had started to pick up on such things. " _Harry_."

Harry immediately pointed towards his cousin. "It's Evie's fault!"

"It was _not_ ," Evie shot back.

"You and your playing with the wards-!"

"Which would have been fine, had you not _jumped_ me-."

"Wait, wait," Hermione said, raising a hand. "Exactly what happened?"

Harry and Evie exchanged another glance.

"All you need to know," Harry said at length, "is that there was a _little_ accident, and someone is a little trigger happy."

"And that broom sheds were not designed to withstand protonic reversal," Evie agreed. "I understand the instructor was quite put out with us."

"I don't know why, she got all new brooms, didn't she?" Harry asked. "If anything, she should be _thanking_ us."

Hermione buried her face in her hands. " _Oh my god why do I know you_." **(7)**

 **HP/RGB**

"Hold your right hand over your broom, and say _up_."

Harry was practically vibrating with excitement. Next to him, Evie remained mostly unreactive. Next to her, Hermione seemed more apprehensive than anything else, and only half of that was because she was about to get on a broom.

The other half was because _Harry_ was about to get on a broom. And that was a perfectly terrifying thought.

At the instructor's words, Harry held a hand over the broom next to him. " _Up_ ," he proclaimed excitedly.

The broom quickly leapt into his hand.

Next to him, Evie's had done the same. She held the broom more awkwardly, clearly more uncomfortable.

Hermione had to try three times before the broom reacted.

"Come on, Hermione, command it!" Harry tried excitedly, attempting to help. "You just have to-"

"Harry, please stop talking now," she hissed, her hand clenched around the handle tightly.

Evie said nothing, holding a runestone to her head that allowed her to see the magic flowing around the broom. "Hm… Fascinating."

As soon as they were given leave to do so, Harry swung a leg around the broom and adjusted his grip. "Evie! Stop staring and get on the broom!"

"Sorry, Harry, this is my first time getting a good look at one," Evie said absently, still focused on the magic no one else could see. "It really is incredible-"

"Spengs! Get on the damn broom!"

Evie sighed, but stowed the stone and did her best to copy Harry's stance. Next to her, Hermione held on for dear life… and they hadn't even gotten off the ground yet.

The white haired lady whose name Harry had already forgotten walked up and down the gathered students, correcting grips and offering advice.

"Turn your hand a little more, that will give you better control… No, lean in a bit more, there… Stop gripping so tightly, girl, you'll cut off circulation!"

This last one was directed at Hermione, who did her best to loosen her hold… a little.

"Omigosh We'regonnaflynow!" Harry hissed to Evie, who was paying no attention, and had snuck her runestone out again, thinking he wasn't looking at her. " _Spengs!_ "

"Sorry," she said, embarrassed at being caught as she quickly shoved the stone back in her pocket.

"On the count of three, I will blow my whistle," the instructor said loudly, at the end of the lines of students. "When I blow my whistle, you will kick off the ground, hover for a count of ten, and then touch back down! You will not fly off, or I will be giving detentions! Now, one! Two! Three!"

At the sound of the whistle, Harry pushed off the ground. The broom was slightly uncomfortable, but it supported his weight, and he couldn't keep a stupid grin from coming over his face.

Unlike him, Evie seemed almost bored as she hovered in the air. She casually reached over to steady Hermione, who was staring wide-eyed at the ground.

At the end of the count of ten, Harry lowered back to the ground, feeling very disappointed, like he'd lost something.

"I will now be dividing you into groups," the instructor called. "Then you will be, in those groups, making a slow circle of the field, staying near the ground."

Another grin spread across Harry's face. More flying!

Nearby, Hermione let out a whimper.

 **HP/RGB**

By the end of the lesson, Harry was flying loops around all of the other students, even those with previous experience.

He _loved_ flying.

Hermione had managed, with Evie's help, to stop panicking. She'd never enjoy flying the way Harry did, but she was able to shove down her fear and keep up with the rest of the class.

Evie could outpace most of them (though obviously not Harry, who was acting like a frigging _maniac_ ), but didn't have the inclination to. She just didn't care. Flying wasn't her thing.

"You're really improving," Evie told Hermione calmly as she led her on another circle of the pitch.

"Thanks, but it's all Harry's fault," the girl sighed. She nodded over to where a cackling Harry spun into a twisting, suicidal dive at the ground, not pulling up until the last minute. "Sort of an, if he can do that, I can do this."

"Yes, it's impressive," Evie agreed.

"Is he always like this when he's flying?" Hermione asked.

"I wouldn't know. I don't think he gets quite so… _crazed_ when he's flying the Ecto-2, but he's never flown on a broom before."

Hermione's head snapped to look at her friend. "What?"

"It's true," Evie said, shrugging. "It's illegal in America to fly on a broom before you're twelve. It's dangerous if you're not trained, and there have been accidents with many young children. They figure that when you're twelve, you're old enough to not run a broom into a tree to see what will happen." **(8)**

"I…" Hermione trailed off, lost for words. "I suppose I can see why they did that. It seems more intelligent. You know, Ronald Weasley was telling people this story about how he nearly hit a hang glider on his brother's broom. And Draco Malfoy kept telling everyone stories where he'd barely escape people in helicopters."

"That's bull," Evie assured. She then paused for a moment. "Well… it's _probably_ bull. They'd have been seriously fined by the British Ministry, if it were true."

"I don't even want to know," Hermione muttered darkly. She looked at Harry again. "He's seriously never been on a broom before? Really?"

"Never once," Evie agreed. "He's always loved flying, though. And you should see him on roller coasters."

"God, I hate roller coasters," Hermione moaned, looking slightly green.

"I'm not the biggest fan myself," Evie admitted. "There was a… a thing. With a roller coaster. And a ghost. Ghosts should not mix with roller coasters." **(9)**

"I definitely don't want to know," Hermione decided. "Can we land now?"

"Another circle," Evie determined, glancing at her watch. "Faster, this time. Then we'll land, but we'll continue practicing once a week."

Hermione groaned again.

"You'll thank me one day," Evie said, the corner of her lip curling up. "Probably."

"I hate you so much," Hermione moaned. " _So much._ "

 **HP/RGB**

"That. Was. AWESOME!"

Harry was still on a bit of a flying high as they headed back to the castle. He couldn't keep the grin off of his face, with not even the chilly air holding him down.

"I mean, I've flown before," he continued. "And it was fun. Cool. Neat. But flying the Ecto-2 is nothing like that! Nothing's like that! It's just… it's so…"

He struggled to find a word for a moment.

"Liberating?" Evie suggested dryly.

"YES!" Harry agreed, pointing at her. "Exactly! Did you think so too?"

"Not particularly," Evie frowned. "I didn't much feel anything either way."

"I hated it," Hermione offered.

"But how can you hate it?" Harry complained. "It's awesome! Just you in the sky, with nothing holding you back, and the acceleration-"

"Yes, you certainly did seem to enjoy throwing yourself at the ground," Hermione agreed wryly. "It nearly gave me a heartattack."

"Hey, I've got to tell the guys we need to get some brooms for the firehouse!" Harry said suddenly, eyes lighting up in excitement. "Can you just imagine going after ghosts on brooms?"

Evie tilted her head. "I suppose the maneuverability would be an improvement over Ecto-2. But could they handle the recoil of the throwers?"

"Hey, you could probably fix that, even if they can't," Harry said, waving a dismissive hand.

"We'd have to test it," Evie decided. "That could be fun."

"Yes!" Harry agreed excitedly. "Testing! On brooms! Let's do this!"

"And we're not allowed to get brooms until we're twelve," Evie reminded him.

"I'll find a way around it," Harry said, completely determined. "I don't care what it takes, I am getting a broom and I am going to fight ghosts on it."

"You knew he was going to react like this," Hermione accused Evie. "You _knew_."

"I suspected," Evie agreed, eyes glinting in amusement.

"Oh my god, you utter… And you still want me to join your ghostbusting team! That's why you forced me to keep flying!"

"And we still have standing lessons once a week," Evie added.

"We can test the recoil then!" Harry added.

Hermione threw her hands in the air. "Agh, you both-!" She cut herself off, stalking ahead of them, up towards the castle.

"We'll need to keep working on her," Evie noted.

"Later," Harry said, turning towards his cousin. "Do you think we can mount a proton cannon on a broom?"

"Of course," Evie said, as though it were a stupid question. "The real thing we need to figure out is, can we do it without sacrificing maneuverability or balance?"

 **HP/RGB**

"Evie, you are aware that first years aren't allowed their own brooms?" Hermione asked dryly.

"I am," Evie agreed.

The three friends had taken up residence in an old empty classroom they'd claimed for themselves. It was a good sized room, and it was perfect for Evie's experiments. Which meant Hermione and Harry often ended up hanging out in the room, keeping her company.

Such as right now. Harry was currently sprawled on the floor, staring upwards at nothing in particular. Hermione was half focused on a charms paper and half focused on Evie, who was pouring over a broomstick she'd laid out on the desk with a runestone in hand, occasionally jotting things down on the blackboard.

Said blackboard was currently filled to the brim with a combination of runes, diagrams, and complex equations Hermione couldn't make heads or tails of.

"Then why, for god's sake, do you have a broomstick?"

To think that two months ago, she'd never taken the lord's name in vain, even if her family wasn't devote. But Evie and Harry were a special type of irritating.

"I'm trying to figure out how it works," Evie said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

" _Yes_ , I can _see_ that." Hermione took a deep, calming breath. "Where did you get the broomstick?"

"I… borrowed it," Evie said slowly, not looking up from her work.

"She nicked it from the broom shed," Harry piped up.

"I have every intention of returning it," Evie cut in quickly, still not looking up. She squinted at a particularly dense cluster of spell work. "Hm…"

"You know, probably," Harry added with a grin.

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Oh, don't worry," Harry said quickly. "We're not doing any experimenting until the brooms my dads are sending us get here. We don't want to blow up any _more_. Evie's just… information gathering?"

"That would be an accurate description, yes," Evie agreed.

"But you're forgetting, first years can't have brooms," Hermione reminded.

"We're not forgetting it, we're ignoring it," Harry corrected, propping himself up on his elbows to better face Hermione. "Besides, if anyone kicks up a fuss about it, we'll just say they don't belong to us."

" _Don't belong to-_?" Hermione cut herself off. "Okay, who will they belong to, then?"

"Slimer," Harry said with a grin. "There's nothing in the rules that says ghosts can't have broomsticks." **(10)**

Hermione's eye twitched. She began shoving her things in her bag. "That's it. I'll be in the library. I've had quite enough of your unique brand of insanity for one day."

"It's only ten in the morning," Harry frowned.

"I _know_!" Hermione hissed.

"Okay," Harry decided with a shrug. "Will we see you at lunch? Dinner?"

Hermione made a noise of frustration somewhere between the hiss of a cat and a full out growl. Not replying, she stalked from the room.

"We'll see you later, then!" Harry called after her. He looked over to Evie. "We'll see her later."

"Okay," Evie answered absently. She prodded at the broomstick with a frown. "I wonder if…"

That was as far as she got before the magic she was looking at backlashed violently, blowing her across the room, and sending the broom up in flames.

"Whoa," Harry gaped. " _Nice_ one."

"I… did not mean to do that," Evie said slowly, picking herself up. Her face was sooted and her glasses had been knocked askew.

"I know," Harry agreed, before groaning. "Aw, man, now we owe them another broom! Did you at least get some idea of how to mount a proton cannon?"

"I have a few ideas," Evie allowed. She frowned at the burning mess. "Do you think we can blame this one on the poltergeist?"

Harry scratched his neck. "Well, we can certainly _try_."

 **A/N:**

 **(1) It's like filtering out a... no, I've got no metaphors. Evie's basically trying to find... um... the sound of one instrument in an orchestra! (I knew I could come up with something!) She's using equations to filter out the other instruments and zero in on the one she wants to listen for. This is something real scientists do. (Well, not with instruments. But with other things.)**

 **(2) According to the RGB episode "Troll Bridge". There will be a lot of references to that. There is also a troll they met during this episode who, at the end, went to live in Chicago. He liked parties. The Ghostbusters never actually get to test their weapons on a troll... but they fake it pretty well.**

 **(3) Egon speaks fluent Trollish. Because he's fucking Egon. (Which explains** ** _so much_** **.)**

 **(4) Admit it. You'd freeze up too.**

 **(5) If they don't have this surcharge, they totally should. Not that they'd, you know, get to tack it on very often.**

 **(6) So... this is basically because I completely forgot about flying lessons until I'd already finished writing Halloween. This is me covering my ass and coming up with a quick excuse as to why they're having late lessons. (It's all Harry's fault.)**

 **(7) It's a real mystery.**

 **(8) Evie would try this. Egon** ** _did_** **try this. Of course, he was over the age of twelve at the time. He still considers it a fascinating experiment in the conservation of energy... and also an interesting look at parental units when faced with a seriously injured child.**

 **(9) It was called the "Rollerghoster". Seriously. I'm not making this up.**

 **(10) There's a lot of things that students are forbidden to have that ghosts aren't. It wouldn't surprise me to find them correcting that oversight before too long...**

 **So, that's all the notes this week! Please review with questions and anything you liked!**

 **Next Time: There is a duel, and Harry does Thanksgiving!**


	6. Chapter 5

**Happy slightly late Valentines Day, everyone! And I am not going to comment on the irony of posting a chapter about a totally different holiday on this one. Nope, not even going to acknowledge it. At all.**

 **Instead, I am going to be talking about something else. (Like you haven't figured that one out by now. Really.) I'm going to talk about the IDW Ghostbusters comic series.**

 **It's actually really well done. I don't remember why I started reading it, but I found it online when I think I was looking for the old NOW's Real Ghostbusters comic series. A couple months later and I now own every volume of both the Ongoing and International series, the IDW Ghostbusters Omnibus, the 2015 and 2017 annuals, and (of course) Ghostbusters Get Real. (I also own both of the old Real Ghostbusters comic series Omnibuses (Ominbi?), but I'm not going to talk about them this time, fun as they are.) They were so brilliant I actually had to own my own copies. And I highly recommend them. Also, there are cross overs. Syndicated cross overs. I mean, I don't want to spoil anything, but Ghostbusters International actually has the team recruiting the Real Ghostbuster's Egon to help them when their Egon... goes missing. Yes, let's go with that. It's a lot of fun.**

 **Also I may or may not have suffered a slight conniption at the end of the 2017 annual... There's a new 6 part story planned with the first installment being released this March called Ghostbusters 101 that's supposed to be this massive Ghostbusters cross over... including the new movie. (I have very mixed feelings about that movie. And very excited, excited, excited feelings about this cross over.)**

 **And now, because it's most likely that none of you actually read anything I write above the chapter title, on with the show!**

Chapter Five: In Which There is a Duel, and Harry Does Thanksgiving

Herbology was actually an interesting subject.

Oh, Harry would never love it like Janine did (she kept a small selection of both magical and non magical plants growing on the roof of the Firehouse), but it was one of the two most important classes he could take at Hogwarts.

The other being, of course, Care of Magical Creatures. Because seriously, the number of magical creatures (dead or not) he came up against in his family's line of work…

To be honest, at one point, he wouldn't have thought much of Herbology either way. Maybe picked up on a bit to better understand a few of the rituals that require plants, but apart from that, not much. And then he'd heard the story of the reason geraniums were not allowed in the Firehouse. **(1)**

Suddenly, Herbology seemed a much more intriguing topic.

However, this did not mean that he was doing well in the class. Mostly because he was getting very different things out of it than his classmates.

While they learned how to care for the plants and what they liked, Harry instead took very careful note of what they _hated_. How to kill or contain them if necessary, and all the other little tips he could to generally make the lives of plants as miserable as possible.

(Not that he would sadistically set out to make plants miserable, just that he could if he needed to. Fire was his _friend_.)

So, Harry actually paid attention in Herbology, and therefore actually learned, even if it was a different selection of lessons than most of the students. The only major problem was that Ravenclaws had the class with the Slytherins.

Harry didn't have anything against Slytherins in general. He was half certain if Peter had gone to Hogwarts, his quick talking ways would have landed him in Slytherin.

(Actually, he'd assigned houses to each of the Ghostbusters-Peter, Slytherin; Ray, Hufflepuff; Egon, Ravenclaw; and Winston, Gryffindor. Janine was still a bit up in the air, but he was leaning towards Gryffindor for her, as well.)

Besides Harry's private assertion that Peter was Slytherin, he knew some of the ones closer to his age. Daphne Greengrass was always good for a debate. Tracey Davis was downright hysterical (in a very deadpan manner). Blaise Zabini was so much like a mini Venkman, Harry was certain it would be giving him nightmares in a few years.

No, Harry had nothing against Slytherins in general.

But he seriously had something against Draco Malfoy.

Upon hearing of his intense dislike of the other boy, his fathers had been largely unhelpful. Ray had suggested trying to find common ground and befriending the boy.

...That wasn't going to happen. Harry hated him too much. He was a self absorbed little asshole.

Winston had offered the idea of just ignoring him.

...Also not going to happen. Malfoy was just too obnoxious to be ignored.

Egon, who could count on one hand the number of times he'd really lost his temper with a thumb left over (most recently at a Russian scientist who'd insulted Albert Einstein before attempting to release an Old One (and wasn't it a good thing that man had ended up in prison?)), couldn't really offer anything of use. **(2)**

And Peter had just snickered and yelled something to the others about how Harry had found his own little Peck.

Decidedly unhelpful.

No, it was Janine who gave him the best advice.

" _All through life, you're going to have to put up with smug, self-entitled asses like this kid_ ," she'd said. " _It's good practice to figure out how you're going to act towards them now. And you will have to. God knows I do all the time._ "

Harry had nodded and made a mental note to hire a secretary as soon as he could.

Okay, that probably wasn't the lesson she wanted him to learn. But hey, it was a good one.

The only problem was that it didn't help him in the here and now.

"One of these days, that kid is going to find himself on the wrong end of a proton stream," Harry hissed quietly to Hermione and Evie as he furiously re-potted a plant he'd already forgotten the name of. But the small tendrils kept reaching out to wrap around his fingers.

"Protonic reversal is not something to threaten someone with lightly," Evie pointed out calmly.

"It it not _lightly_ ," Harry growled, tugging his hand away from one of the vines. "It is deliberate, with great _foresight_ and _malice_. I do not like him."

"Sam I am," Hermione mumbled, causing Evie's lip to twitch.

"And he seems to seek us out every class, just to give us a hard time," Harry continued, as though he hadn't heard her.. "It's getting nigh _intolerable_ -"

"Potter!"

"Speak of the fucking _dalkhu_ ," Harry grumbled.

Hermione, fed up with Malfoy as she was, didn't comment on his language.

The three turned to face the blond Slytherin.

"So, you actually showed up for class, Potter?" Malfoy sneered. "Thought you wouldn't appear so ordinary if you just showed up to prove your prowess at your best subject?"

"Hey, anyone who thinks Herbology is my prowess deserves to be an idiot," Harry commented, pasting on a grin.

"You're killing your plant again," Evie spoke up.

Harry glanced down. In his anger, his hands had begun smouldering, and the plant was trying to get as far away as it could. "Really?" he asked, sounding delighted. "Cool."

"Come off it, Potter, no one believes you have a _real_ magical bone in your body," Malfoy snorted.

"Depends on your definition of magical, really," Harry argued, leaning back on the table. "I mean, by now I could do six different exorcisms in my _sleep_. Just because I think wanded magicks are a load of shit-"

"Prove it, then," Malfoy said, jumping on it a little too eagerly.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "How?"

"Wizards' duel," Malfoy said immediately.

"No," Evie countered flatly.

Harry glanced over to her, only mildly surprised. "Why not?"

"Because the definition of Wizards' duel he's going by is no doubt the one defined by Abraham Johannesburg in 1566, in his treatise, _The Civilized Wizard's Duel_ ," Evie explained. "It requires only wanded magicks be used and only in the manner this school trains in. In short, it's a specialized bit of shit."

Harry cracked a real grin at that. He couldn't help it. Evie was always funny when she swore, mostly because she did it so rarely. "So, that's a no then, Malfoy."

Malfoy's face twisted, clearly ready to call Harry out on being a coward, when Evie beat him to it.

"However, Harry would be happy to face you in a _Magical_ duel."

This caused all three to look at her in surprise.

"A Magical duel, as defined by Aquila Black in 942 (though the histories of such duels go back further), does not require any specific types of casting, only that magical casting be used by both parties. Draco is free to use his wand, Harry is free to use whatever casting types he chooses. The one caveat is no one is to permanently harm each other, or cast any such magicks that could do so," Evie rattled off. "A full listing of such magicks can be requested from any reasonable government."

"Why the hell do you know this?" Harry asked, a tone of wonder in his voice.

"Why don't you?" Evie shot back.

Malfoy looked like he'd swallowed a lemon. "Fine, then. A _magical_ duel it is. Tonight, at midnight, in the trophy room."

"No, magical duels require an audience," Evie argued calmly. "To ensure fair and unbiased rulings."

"We should have Professor Flitwick officiate," Hermione offered. "He was a dueling champion. If anyone knows the rules of magical dueling, it would be him."

Harry glanced at her in confusion, and she rolled her eyes.

"Oh my _God,_ Harry, he's our head of house! Teaches charms?"

"The short one?" Harry asked uncertainly.

Hermione looked ready to bang her head against the table.

"We could perhaps have it in the Great Hall, after dinner," Evie mused. "That would satisfy the requirements."

Malfoy looked again like he'd bitten off more than he could chew, but he nodded. "Yes, of course. More people to see your failure." He forced a sneer. "Do you have a second?"

"Evie, of course," Harry said, as though it were obvious. "Do you?"

Malfoy glanced over at the two heavy set boys who followed him around. "...Crabbe. See you after supper, then, Potter." He strode off.

"Idiot," Harry sighed, shaking his head. He glanced to Evie. "Was any of that actually true?"

"All of it," Evie agreed. "You know, in any other situation, I would question your using me as your second. I'm not a very powerful witch."

"But…?" Harry pressed, knowing she would get it.

"...But my strength here lies in the unknown. Even Hermione would be casting spells using a wand focus, and it's highly unlikely Malfoy has ever even met a runic caster before," Evie determined.

"That's it!" Harry said cheerfully. "Well, that and the fact that even if you sucked royally, I was still going to be pulling you in. Rule number 1, am I right?"

"...I'm not sure Malfoy counts as a malicious ghost," Evie said slowly.

"I will bust that _mitu_ ," Harry declared, ignoring her. **(3)**

"He's not a _mitu_ ," Evie pointed out flatly.

"I don't care. He's going down. I hate him. I-" Harry trailed off, making strangling motions as he tried to verbalize his feelings.

"Mr. Potter!"

Harry jumped at Professor Sprout's (that was her name, right? The ironic one?) shout. He spun around to find his plant had splayed out and was smoking slightly.

"We are trying to _save_ the Devil's Snare, not _slay_ it!"

"Woah," Harry said, unable to keep a grin off of his face. "And I wasn't even _trying_."

 **HP/RGB**

By dinner time, Hermione had worked herself into a ridiculous state.

"...so if he tries that, you can-"

Harry stopped her by putting a hand on her shoulder. "Hermione, breathe."

Hermione gave him a look of desperation. "Harry, I…"

"It'll be fine," he assured. "I've been busting ghosts for over five years now. I've learned a lot of magicks during that time. I could probably go toe to toe with a full demon if I had to. Not that I would ever want to… on my own."

"Yes, you would," Evie said, not looking up from her book on runes.

"Yes, I would," Harry admitted, grinning again. "Not that I _would_ -"

"Yes, you would," Evie said again, still not looking up.

"Okay, yeah, I would," Harry agreed. "My point is, I can take a little brat like Malfoy."

Hermione blinked, before glancing over at Evie. "Could he really go toe to toe with a demon?"

"No," Evie said flatly. "He's exaggerating to make you feel better. …But it suddenly occurs to me that you didn't need to know that." **(4)**

Harry facepalmed. "Evie, you're killing me here."

"But Harry is correct to be confident against Malfoy," Evie assured quickly. "Unless Malfoy has been learning higher magicks, which, as he asked for a wizard's duel as opposed to a magical one, I highly doubt."

Hermione frowned. "But what if-"

"Forget it," Harry said, slapping her on the back. "I'll be fine. Even if I lose, they're not about to let Malfoy kill me. Or maim me. Or anything, really."

Hermione groaned and buried her face in her hands. "Harry, you are going to be the death of me."

"Well, yes, but it's going to be a really _fun_ death," Harry pointed out. "And that's what counts, doesn't it?" **(5)**

" _No!_ "

Now, Harry hadn't made a big deal out of the duel. Malfoy, who'd been planning originally on ditching Harry and letting him be caught outside his common room after hours, hadn't said much either.

So, naturally, the whole school knew.

As soon as the clock struck nine, and dinner had officially ended, the tables were shoved to the side to make a good space for the duel, and a few of the older students had been recruited to cast a ward around the area, to protect any spectators.

Harry gave Evie a sidelong glance. "...Evie?"

"All I did was speak with Professor Flitwick," she said, raising an eyebrow. "I have no control over eavesdropping students."

"...Of course you don't," Harry said dryly. "And you certainly wouldn't hold off on talking to him until the best moment for other students to eavesdrop."

"Of course not," Evie agreed. "That would require extensive planning ahead, and an intense desire for people to stop underestimating you."

Harry's deadpan expression said it all. "...One of a kind, Spengs. One of a kind."

"Mr. Potter? Mr. Malfoy? If you would step forward?"

Rolling his eyes, Harry moved into the space, seeing Malfoy on the other side of the clearing. Professor Flitwick stood in the middle of the space, ready to preside over the duel.

Dumbledore took that moment to try and interrupt. "Just what is going on here?"

"Nothing you need concern yourself with, Headmaster," Flitwick assured him. "Mr. Malfoy here challenged Mr. Potter to a magical duel."

Harry punctuated this by pulling a runestone from his pocket and tapping it against his palm. Runes weren't his specialty or anything, but he'd carved this one earlier that afternoon, with Evie looking over his shoulder. Just because he didn't believe Malfoy was much of a threat didn't mean that he wouldn't be going into this with his eyes wide open with half a dozen tricks up his sleeves… or in his pockets, as the case may be.

"A duel?" Dumbledore asked. "In that case, as headmaster, it falls to me to ensure that every precaution is followed."

"Of course, Headmaster," Harry agreed. "Which is why Professor…" He glanced at Evie.

" _Flitwick,_ " she mouthed.

"...Flitwick is presiding over our duel," Harry finished.

"Nonsense, my boy," Dumbledore chuckled. "Why, I've presided over at least a dozen wizards' duels before."

"Headmaster, this is not a wizards' duel," Flitwick corrected, raising an eyebrow. "And as I am the only one on staff familiar with the rules of magical dueling as opposed to those of a wizards' duel, it falls to me to ensure the rules are met."

There was an outbreak of whispering from the watching students. Clearly, they hadn't known the distinction.

"...A _magical duel_?" Dumbledore repeated, sounding confused.

"If you've never seen one, Headmaster, you're in for a treat," Flitwick said with a grin. "Even if the students are young, it's quite a sight."

Harry tucked the runestone back in his pocket, pulled his wand, and spun it in his fingers. Oh, yeah, he was ready.

"Now," Flitwick continued, "if everyone would step outside of the boundary? Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy? Are you prepared?"

"Anytime," Malfoy said coldly, relaxing into a dueling stance.

Harry grinned, not getting into any stance, continuing to bounce on the balls of his feet and spin his wand in his hand. "Bring it, _kalbi_."

Though only Evie understood exactly what he'd said, it was clear Harry had just insulted Malfoy. Hermione glanced towards Evie, hoping for some clue, but Evie's face was carefully blank.

Flitwick backed up. "Three. Two. One. _Begin!_ "

On the last shout, Malfoy immediately sent a curse. " _Expelliarmus!_ "

Harry sidestepped the curse easily. He actually slid his wand back away. He wasn't planning on using focus casting at all during this duel.

Malfoy, clearly angry about the fact that Harry actually had the gall to _sheath his wand,_ sent another several curses towards him. Harry continued to side step, instead pulling a rune stone from his pocket, the same one he'd been playing with earlier, and ducking down to place it on the ground.

Harry hummed lightly as he placed the stone, before standing again and moving about a foot and doing the same thing with another stone. He did the same thing twice more, so there was a rough square on the ground.

Then, and only then did he turn to Malfoy, who was growing extremely frustrated.

"Stand still and _fight_ , Potter!" he shouted, sending another couple curses.

"Well," Harry sighed, shaking his head, "when you put it like _that_ …"

And then he moved.

It was fast, wandless, a sharp kinetic cast. His foot swung up and to the side, magic following, closing the distance to strike Malfoy physically, hard in the cheek, sending him stumbling.

"Kinetic casting," Harry lectured, as Malfoy recovered from the blow. "A master can kill you from across the room a dozen different ways, and conjure incredible things in moments. I'm just an amature, but it's enough to strike unexpectedly."

Malfoy snarled and cast again. "Your ridiculous casting won't help you here! There's only one real way to use magic!"

" _Nusku Imhas Lukur_ ," Harry cast, not moving his body except to dodge the spell. Malfoy again found himself physically struck from the side, sending him to the ground this time. **(6)**

"Verbal casting," Harry continued to lecture, circling Malfoy as he struggled to his feet. "A master's abilities are nearly limitless, but very few can truly master it. Then again, you don't need to truly master it to do something as simple as that."

Malfoy, finally recovering, snarled at Harry, before charging towards him. He got two steps in, before Harry spoke again.

" _Activate!_ "

Malfoy ran into a shimmering, translucent wall that snapped into existence in front of him. He fell back slightly, before looking around in shock. He was completely trapped, with four walls of magic, each about three feet long and ten feet tall surrounding him.

Harry stepped forward again. "Runic casting. With the right runes and preparation… well, you'd be surprised what's possible." He grinned. "I believe the duel is mine."

"You… you!" Malfoy shouted. "You didn't even fight like a proper wizard!"

"That depends on your definition of wizard, doesn't it?" Harry asked lightly, unsheathing his wand.

"Mr. Malfoy?" Professor Flitwick asked. "Can you free yourself? Are you able to continue the duel?"

Malfoy slammed a hand against the wall, but it held firm. "You-!"

Harry rolled his eyes and pointed his wand at Malfoy. A quick wordless spell sent the boy to the floor. "He's asleep," Harry explained. "I figured that would end the duel faster."

"The duel is over," Flitwick called, rather unnecessarily. "Mr. Potter wins!"

Harry grinned as he slid his wand away and ducked down to pick up his runestones. As soon as he removed one, the walls vanished. Gathering them, he walked off, whistling.

At least until Evie smacked him upside the head.

"Ow! What was that for!"

"That was for relying on those runestones!" Evie snapped.

"They seemed to work rather well to me," Hermione said with a frown. "Why do you say they weren't?"

"Because they were easy to break," Evie answered.

"They seemed fine, though," Hermione said, confused. "I mean, he couldn't break it down, couldn't… oh. He could have picked up a stone and broken the ward at any time, couldn't he."

"Yeah, pretty much," Harry agreed. "That's okay, though, I had a partial exorcism next that would have trapped him in place. And I could pull my wand if I needed to."

"You are so _lucky_ Malfoy's an idiot," Evie sighed.

"Well… _yeah_ ," Harry agreed. "That was kind of the point of the duel, though. And now the whole school knows I'm no pushover, which is what I'm assuming you were going for."

"Well, you know what happens when you assume," Evie pointed out calmly.

"You mean that wasn't your goal?" Harry asked, stopping in place as Evie continued onwards.

"I didn't say that. I was just reminding you," Evie called back to him.

Harry blinked as he tried to puzzle that out. "But… you… you… Evie! What did you mean?! Get back here!"

 **HP/RGB**

"Hermione…. Hermione…. Hermione…"

"Yes, Harry?" Hermione asked, slightly exasperated at her friend. She was trying to read a book, and he was bugging her to the best of his abilities.

"Do British people celebrate Thanksgiving?"

" _No_ , Harry."

"Well, Slimer's gonna be pissed. He loves that holiday."

" _Yes_ , Harry." (That was kind of obvious, after all.)

"Say, we should have our own Thanksgiving! The elves would love that! A mini-feast, maybe in one of that classrooms-"

As Harry's words grew fainter as he chattered on, Hermione's answer came instinctively. " _No_ , Harry."

And then she looked up. "Harry? Where did you…. Oh. Crap."

 **HP/RGB**

"Let's do Thanksgiving!" Harry shouted, bursting in the door to the classroom that had become Evie's make-shift lab. He and Hermione had helped push in more tables and blackboards and arrange them in a vaguely lab-like manner.

...It still looked sort of like a classroom.

"Why are we 'doing' Thanksgiving?" Evie asked, not looking up from a machine that was giving off puffs of smoke. She jotted something down on the clipboard she was holding.

"Because we can? Because we should? Because Slimer will be heartbroken if we don't?" Harry asked. "Take your pick. Did you know they don't celebrate it here?"

"Yes, Harry, I'm well aware of the fact that Thanksgiving is a purely American holiday." She paused a moment. "And Canadian."

"Well, why can't we celebrate it?" Harry asked. "Come on, it'll be fun! I bet we can get a bunch of kids who'll enjoy a proper American Thanksgiving!"

"I'm not sure it's the best idea," Evie said slowly. "It's seems too much like we'd be forcing a holiday on people who don't celebrate it."

"It'll be fun!" Harry repeated, sing-song.

"Do you remember what happened _last_ Thanksgiving?" Evie asked dryly.

"Uh…"

Yes, he very much remembered last Thanksgiving, but since a giant ghost/mutant turkey wasn't a very good argument _for_ a Thanksgiving celebration…

"...Nope. Not a clue."

Evie sighed, finally looking up from her machine. "Harry. If I tell you to not have a celebration and refuse to offer any assistance, will you go ahead and have one anyways?"

Harry tilted his head in consideration. "...Yep, that pretty much sums it up."

"Alright," Evie said, nodding once. "I'll help. But only if you get Hermione on board."

Harry winced. He'd really been counting on Evie's help on that front.

"...Okay. I get Hermione to agree, and you'll help me put together an awesome Thanksgiving feast?"

"That _is_ what I just said," Evie agreed. "Why? Do you think you can't get Hermione to agree without me?"

"I'm not sure I can get her to agree _with_ you," Harry muttered, before straightening up. "No, no, nothing like that! Just confirming! I'll come back later, with her totally convinced! You'll see!" He dashed from the lab, head still high.

"I'm sure you will…" Evie murmured, a strange smirk coming over her features as she turned back to her machine. "I'm sure you will…"

 **HP/RGB**

Harry knew well enough to never approach a situation directly if you already knew what the outcome was. In such situations, you had to get creative. Approach from the side. Above. Below. But never head on.

Which meant that he couldn't just go up to Hermione and inform her she was going to be helping him. He had to approach this _sneakily_.

Like… like a Slytherin. (Not that there was anything wrong with them, even if the Bond-wannabe was a little shit.)

So, how best to approach this? He had several ideas.

 **HP/RBG**

Plan A: Casual Approach.

Harry laid flopped backwards over a chair, looking at Hermione, who was reading a book on runes Evie had gotten her.

"Hey, Hermione," he said.

Hermione didn't look up. "Yes, Harry?"

"Did we ever get back at that redhead who insulted you?" Harry asked.

Apparently, this was a dangerous enough topic for Hermione to lower her book. "You mean the one on Halloween? I don't think so. Why?"

"Well, we have to do something, don't we?" Harry asked, waving his hands. "We can't let him get away with it! Hey, maybe Slimer can do something!"

Hermione seemed to falter. "Well… _maybe_ …"

"We'll have to bribe him with something afterwards, though," Harry mused. "Say, like… a mini-feast?"

"You're still on the Thanksgiving thing," Hermione realized, going back to her book.

"What? No!" Harry denied, a little too quickly. "I just… think Slimer would like it, and if it just happened to occur on Thanksgiving-"

" _Not interested_ , Harry."

Damn it. On to Plan B.

 **HP/RGB**

Plan B: Guilt.

Harry had practiced _real_ focus casting before, where you just had a focus and pushed magic through it to take the shape you wanted. He was pretty good at it, too, all things considered.

Hermione had wanted to learn. So, Harry had showed her a few tricks, and was teaching her how to dual. It was a simple matter to, at the next lesson, line up his book bag and wait for the inevitable accident.

(He'd had practice. Sometimes they needed to trick a ghost into hitting something, and Harry had played bait before. (Though Janine usually got mad at someone following that.)) **(7)**

So Harry lined himself up with the bag, and dodged when appropriate, and hid a smirk when Hermione's spell impacted the bag, slicing the strap neatly in two.

"My bag!" Harry yelped.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" Hermione cried, moving to the bag. She bent over it with her wand and an intense look of concentration.

"I can't believe you wrecked my bag!" Harry moaned. "I need that for all sorts of things. But I'm sure you can make it up to me someho-"

"Got it!"

Hermione proudly displayed the bag, which she had successfully mended. "It looks like I'm getting better at this, wouldn't you say, Harry? ...Harry? Why are you just staring into space?"

Plan B: Failure.

 **HP/RGB**

Plan C: Bribery.

Harry dropped the massively heavy book he was lugging around on the table. It made a thumping noise and shook the table strongly enough to make Hermione look up from her current homework.

He took a moment to breathe. That book was _heavy!_

"It has come to my attention that you very much enjoy old, large, out of print tomes such as this one," Harry began, patting the cover. "I had to get my uncles to send over a copy. It has also come to my attention that I need some help with my Thanksgiving plans. Perhaps we can reach some sort of an accord?"

As he finished, he put on his best smile.

And yes, Hermione's interest was definitely perked. She looked curious, and intrigued as she scanned the book.

"So," she said slowly, sliding over. "What kind of accord are you talking about, here?"

"Oh, nothing _too_ bad," Harry drawled, trying not to smirk at the way Hermione seemed to almost be drooling at the book. Peter had been right. People always had their price. It was just finding it that was the trouble. "Just-"

"Hang on," Hermione said abruptly, sliding back. "I've already read that one."

"...What?"

"That's one Evie lent me early on for a better comprehension of types of magic," Hermione explained, nodding towards it. " _The Complete History of Magicks,_ isn't it?"

"Er…" Harry glanced at the title. Damn it. "...No?"

"Harry, I'm not going to make that kind of a deal for a book I've already read and have access to. Come to think of it, I'm pretty sure Evie has access to all your books. I can just ask her for a copy if I want to read anything."

Oh, now _that_ just wasn't fair.

Onto Plan D.

 **HP/RGB**

Plan D: Blackmail.

The problem with his brilliant plan D was simply that Hermione did not have an embarrassing past to take advantage of. Or, at least, not one he had ready access to.

This had never been an issue at the Firehouse. Everyone had blackmail on everyone.

 _EVERYONE_.

Ray, Peter, and Egon had the largest collections, of course, dating back to their college days. Harry wasn't even sure what half of that stuff was, as the three refused to tell him most of the worst stuff.

Janine and Winston had both cottoned on to owning their own blackmail collection pretty quickly, though, and with the hoops they had to jump through in _their_ line of work, it wasn't hard to make one. Hell, even _Slimer_ had a good sized collection!

So, when one person wanted to blackmail the other, it usually turned into an amusing sort of ping-pong game back and forth until one person gave up.

(Best ping-pong game _ever!_ )

However, this did not solve his current issue. He had blackmail material on his parents. On Slimer. Even on Evie.

He did not have anything on Hermione.

This was the extent of his current problem. It was a very big problem.

So he called Janine. And begged for her help.

Janine could work a computer and network like no one else he knew. After assuring her he wouldn't use it for anything bad, and her refusing to find anything really good, he did end up with a school picture of a six year old Hermione from her kindergarten years.

That… could work.

Harry approached Hermione in their abandoned classroom, when Evie had locked herself in a sort of soundproof booth to get better readings on one of the machines.

"Hey, Hermione," he said slyly, sidling up to her.

Hermione, who was taking notes for Evie on several dials on a totally different machine, barely spared him a glance. "Yes, Harry?"

"So, I came across something the other day," he said. "A certain… ah… _photo_."

Hermione turned from the dials to give him a blank stare. "What?"

"You see," Harry continued proudly, "if you don't assist me with my Thanksgiving feast, I'm going to post it up in the common room." He proudly passed her the photo. "And that's not my only copy, before you think of tearing it up."

Hermione stared at it for a moment. "...I'm not even going to ask where you got my school picture."

"So, do we have a deal?" Harry asked eagerly, smirking as he bounced on the balls of his feet. Foolproof plan!

"Ah… no," Hermione said with a shake of her head. She passed the photo back. "Go ahead and put it up. It's actually kind of cute. I don't mind."

Harry blinked, not immediately reacting. "I- you- … what?"

Hermione smiled, holding the picture up so he could compare the two. "Much better than now, don't you think? And _cute_."

Scowling, Harry snatched the photo back. " _Fine_ , oh she-of-the-no-embarrassment. I will find something on you one of these days."

"Hm," Hermione agreed noncommittally as she turned back to the dials.

There was a muffled explosion from a corner of the room, and a second later, Evie staggered from the soundproof booth, surrounded by a heavy cloud of smoke.

"WE HAVE A PROBLEM WITH THE PLANS FOR THE PROTON CANNON," she said, speaking too loudly. "I'LL NEED TO CONSULT WITH UNCLE EGON."

Harry cupped his hands over his mouth. "But the soundproofing works great!" he shouted, before giving a thumbs up.

Evie stared at him for a second. "...WHAT?"

 **HP/RGB**

Plan E: Beg.

Okay, so he had pretty much run out of options at this point. He had pretty good puppy dog eyes, but he knew that wouldn't leave any impression on Hermione. No, what he needed now was to dig deep within himself. To find…

The energy to annoy Hermione until she couldn't possibly say no.

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"..."

"Please?"

"..."

"I'm not hearing a no here."

The next thing Harry knew, he had been immobilized and was lying on the ground, unable to move or speak.

...Okay, after three hours of putting up with him? Harry was honestly surprised it had taken her this long to snap. It was just too bad it wasn't in the way he'd wanted.

She left him there for another hour before releasing him to scurry back to him dorm and work on plan F. Which didn't exist yet.

 **HP/RGB**

Plan F: Fail.

Well, he was out of ideas. He'd tried, but he couldn't come up with anything. At all.

That meant he'd probably have to plan the Thanksgiving thing himself, but he'd do it. For the turkey!

So he went to inform Evie.

"I couldn't convince Hermione," he admitted.

"Hm," Evie commented, not even looking at him, absorbed in one of the black boards in her "lab".

"She's not helping, then," he continued.

"Mm," Evie agreed, still not paying him any attention.

"So, I'm on my own then," Harry finished.

"Mn," Evie hemmed before chalking the words _cellulite, feasible?_ on the board. "...Not necessarily."

Harry blinked. "Huh?"

"Observe," Evie said, placing her chalk down and heading from the former classroom.

Evie was a few inches taller than him, with long legs, and walking quickly, so he had to hurry to catch up. It wasn't hard to follow her, though, as they were just going to the common room.

Apparently.

One riddle later, and Evie was stopping next to Hermione, who was engrossed in a book on charms.

"Hermione?" Evie began.

Hermione looked up immediately. "Yes?"

"Harry would like to have a small Thanksgiving feast to celebrate the holiday we're missing by not being home in America," Evie began. "This feast would most likely only be an hour or two long, and with the help of the house elves, would be no trouble to pull off. It would involve perhaps the rest of our dorm mates and Slimer and a professor to keep an eye on things. This would hopefully show some of the culture America has made for itself to our classmates, who would no doubt enjoy the lesson. Would you be interested in assisting us in this endeavor?"

Hermione blinked. "Well, when you put it like _that_ …"

Harry's mouth fell open.

Plan F: Logical Argument/Disguise as Learning Opportunity was a success. He was so glad he'd thought of it.

 **HP/RGB**

"Planning a party is _hard_ ," Harry complained.

The three had taken over a(nother) abandoned classroom, and were in the process of decorating. Which involved a lot more moving of tables and chairs than actual decoration. Hence Harry's complaints.

"This was _your_ idea," Hermione shot. She levitated another chair to move towards the table.

"Yes, but there was a reason I brought the two of you in," Harry argued. "So I wouldn't have to do the heavy lifting."

"Magic negates the need for heavy lifting," Evie pointed out.

"You're not even moving anything!" Harry snapped.

"That's because I don't believe the teachers would appreciate runic clusters appearing on their furniture," Evie answered calmly. **(8)**

"What happened to, 'better to ask forgiveness than permission'?" Harry grumbled.

"Those brooms were for _science_. This is for a frivolous holiday. I'm naturally less compelled to risk blowing things up."

" _Hermione_ , Evie's ruining my Thanksgiving buzz," Harry complained.

"Good," Hermione snarled back as she wrestled another chair into place. "I'm never letting you talk me into this again."

"But think of the learning opportunity!" Harry argued.

"Think of the, ' _maybe there's a reason Britain doesn't celebrate Thanksgiving_ '," Hermione shot back.

"Yes, because it's _boring_ ," Harry returned. He shoved the last chair into place and stood back, wiping his forehead. "Well, that's the hard part done. And the elves have already been bribed to bring food, and we're all good to go."

"Now you just have to get through the hosting of the party," Evie agreed.

"Which you two are going to help me with, right?" Harry asked.

There was a long pause.

"Oh for- you didn't help me to help with the party at all, did you?" Harry demanded. "You wanted me to struggle on my own and sit laughing in the background!"

"Of course not," Evie disagreed. "I could have done that easily without agreeing to help."

"Just you watch!" Harry snapped, pointing a finger at her. "This is going to be a great party! And everyone's going to love it!" He stormed off in a huff.

"There was an ulterior motive to this, wasn't there?" Hermione asked Evie.

"It was just a thought," Evie said. "If Harry realizes that hosting a party is this difficult, it's unlikely he'll try to do so again."

"He was bugging you, too, huh?"

"I do not _host_."

 **HP/RGB**

In the end, the Thanksgiving party turned out a… marginal success. Sort of.

First years from all houses showed up (though Malfoy had not been invited) and really seemed to be enjoying themselves. Professor Flitwick watched over the small feast, and Harry played the crowd like someone with years of experience.

And then, Slimer had showed up.

The party hadn't lasted too much longer. But there was a lot of running and screaming. Which kind of reminded Harry of home.

That was nice.

"Next time," he told Slimer, who was attempting to shove a whole turkey down his gullet, "you can just go _home_ for Thanksgiving."

"It's still better than the reanimated turkeys," Evie told him calmly, from where she lounged in one of the chairs, a book spread over her legs.

"Yeah, I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop on that one," Harry admitted.

Hermione shook her head. "Honestly, Harry. Just because it happened once doesn't mean there's always going to be a ghost turkey."

"No," Evie disagreed. "There's _always_ a ghost turkey."

Hermione blinked. "...Always?"

" _Always_ ," Evie agreed.

There was a long pause.

"...Really?" Hermione asked.

" _Always_ ," Evie repeated.

To punctuate her statement, Slimer let out a shriek as one of the turkeys pulled itself to its feet and gave a ghostly squawk.

"Well, now this is more like it," Harry grinned as he pulled his proton pack. "Bet you ten bucks I can get it trapped before you can, Spengs."

"Challenge accepted," Evie decided, closing her book.

The next several minutes were filled with proton streams and bits of turkey. Just like home.

 **A/N: There is** ** _always_** **a ghost turkey.**

 **(1) "A Ghost Grows in Brooklyn". Egon gives Janine a haunted Geranium. By the end, most of Brooklyn is engulfed and Janine's flat is seriously water damaged. It's all Egon's fault.**

 **(2) As seen in the episode "Russian About". Egon is pulling Peter away from one of the ruder Russian scientists when the man insults Albert Einstein. The rest is off screen, but is suggested to be sufficiently violent and not for impressionable young viewers.**

 **(3) Mitu means "Dead man" (more or less). Harry's calling Malfoy a "Dead man".**

 **(4) She really tries. She does.**

 **(5)** ** _Yes_** **.**

 **(6) "Incantation" "Strike (hit)" "Enemy". Yeah, pretty much exactly as advertised.**

 **(7) They had to sleep on the couch.**

 **(8) Also, wood is a bad surface for runes to be carved in. They don't tend to last.**

 **So, we see a bit more of a variety of magic, and Harry is insensibly annoying. Yes, that sounds about right. Please review with any questions or comments or anything, really. Reviews feed the rabid muse.**

 **NEXT TIME: There is a cerberus, and Christmas vacation begins.**


	7. Chapter 6

**Okay, let me start by saying I am so sorry this is kind of late.**

 **There are two very important reasons for this. The first is that I was in a play, and we were kind of hitting crunch time (and we only had about a month to throw the whole thing together and an incredible** ** _three_** **(count 'em,** ** _three_** **) total rehearsals where everyone was actually there. But the performances are done now (as of two days ago) and I'm caught up on sleep (as of today), and I can actually start writing again!**

 **The other is the bane of us all: writers block. Well, not exactly, more like another story not getting out of my head until I'd written a significant portion of it. Finally, fourteen thousand words into a very,** ** _very_** **long one shot, I think it's let me go long enough to get caught up on this. Yay!**

 **Just one little note before we begin: the holidays. Harry refers to it as Christmas in the story, as all of the Ghostbusters (as in X-Mas Marks the Spot) celebrate that. I have gone a little bit further into this (because why not?) and had it so the busters celebrate a bit more of a conglomeration of holidays, though they still typically refer to it as Christmas, just for the ease of understanding. In this story, Winston is the big Christmas celebrator. Peter was raised celebrating Christmas, but never much cared for the holidays until very recently and is more into the gifts than anything else. Janine's Jewish and celebrates Hanukkah. Ray's family celebrates the Pagan holidays, so he celebrates Yule. And Egon has Jewish ancestry, but never really celebrated anything in particular growing up. The result is a confusing mix of religions and celebrations that somehow satisfy everyone and involve a lot of odd things. Some of which will be further expanded upon in the next chapter.**

 **One other thing. I did some research, and in 1991, Hanukkah really did start on December 1st, which makes it so the Hogwarts students missed it by the time they got out of school. This is not meant to be a slight on the holiday, it's just a timing thing. I'll probably expound more upon the traditions they get into for it next year... (Though for now I'm worried enough with the Yule stuff, because I did my research, but I was raised on Christmas, so... I'll do my best and please feel free to correct anything I get majorly wrong. Just don't get too mad if I screw up. Sorry.)**

 **And now, on with the chapter!**

Chapter Six: In Which There is a Cerberus and Christmas Vacation Begins

"Harry, you know I am your friend, right?" Hermione whispered.

"Yes," Harry agreed.

"And you know I want only the best for you, right?"

"Yes."

"Then _please_ listen when I tell you that this is a _very bad idea_. About as bad as you've ever had in a long line of-and I love you when I say this- _very bad ideas_."

There was a pause.

"I should get that on a T-shirt," Harry muttered. **(1)**

" _Harry!_ "

Hermione was right to be frustrated. Currently the two of them, along with Evie, had slipped out of the Ravenclaw dorm and were sneaking along the third floor corridor, looking, as Harry had put it, "for a very painful death".

" _After all_ ," he'd said, " _it's really not out of bounds if you're actively looking for a painful death. It's only if you aren't that you shouldn't venture in_."

Peter had taught him to be very careful of his words. It was a lesson he'd learned well.

Hermione, on the other hand, had much less experience with contracts. She was much more worried about following the spirit of the law than the letter.

Harry really felt this was her loss.

Evie, as per usual, paid little attention to their argument, focused more on the map she was following and the PKE meter she occasionally checked. Harry wasn't sure what exactly she was checking for.

"Which door was it again?" Harry asked quietly as he walked down the hall.

"That one," Hermione said, pointing. "But I don't think-"

Harry tried the door, the rattling cutting her off. "Locked."

"Oh well," Hermione sighed. "We'll have to give up, then-"

" _Nusku Sekkuru Peta_ ," Harry cast, tapping the door. With a click, it unlocked.

"You've memorized that phrase, haven't you," Evie observed flatly.

"I admit nothing," Harry said cheerfully, pushing open the door.

They stood at the door. No one went in. They didn't have to. It was quite clear what lay beyond.

Harry let the door shut on its own.

There was a long pause.

"Did I just see what I think I saw?" Harry asked Evie, unemotionally.

Evie was focused wholly on her PKE meter. "I know I did."

"Papa Ray's gonna be so _jealous!_ " Harry grinned, finally turning away. "He's never seen a _real_ cerberus before! A construct, sure but a real live-" He paused. "It is live, isn't it?"

"Yes," Evie agreed, a twinge of amusement slipping into her voice.

"A real live cerberus!" Harry repeated. "This is so _cool_!"

"Harry," Hermione said, voice faint, "is there really a cerberus in our school?"

"And it's just on the other side of that door!" Harry agreed.

"Harry," Hermione repeated, "why is there a cerberus in our school?"

"Traditionally, the cerberus is considered a guard dog," Evie lectured. "It shows up most prominently in Greek mythos as a guardian of the underworld. Of course, no living cerberus would actually be able to take up that role, but there is some speculation-"

"Evie?" Harry interrupted. "Don't care. Cerberus. In school. Best day _ever_."

"No, Harry, Hermione is correct," Evie argued. "We have to ascertain exactly what this cerberus is doing here. And the fact that it's locked up and we were warned away suggests that Dumbledore is well aware of this beast, and means that we can't bust it."

Harry deflated at that. "Not even a little busting?"

"No."

"Damn. That takes all the fun out of it." Harry pushed the door open again to take a better look at the cerberus. "We should come back with a camera later. Papa Ray'll never believe this without a picture… Hey, there's a trap door under its foot!"

"The traditional guardian," Evie reminded calmly, reaching forward to pull the door shut. She pulled a runestone and tapped it against the door, locking it. "We should try and figure out what it's guarding."

"That's no fun," Harry frowned.

"Maybe the library has something?" Hermione offered, getting back into an area she was comfortable with. The three turned from the door and started heading back to their dorm. "We can check tomorrow, but I'm not sure how much-"

"I was thinking more along the lines of going down the trap door and looking," Evie admitted.

"Evie, I love you," Harry declared. "I can't wait."

"Of course, we'll have to figure out how to get past a cerberus, first," Evie mused. "Perhaps Uncle Ray knows something. Or I could check the ' _Moreci Bestiary'._ **(2)** I'm sure Hogwarts has some useful literature as well…"

"I'm not going down that hole with you," Hermione declared quickly. "But I'll help search the books."

"Good, because I won't," Harry said firmly.

"Reading is an essential part of being a Ghostbuster," Evie reminded him.

"Yeah?" Harry asked. "Tell Papa Peter that. Besides, I _did_ read those books. I'm just not going to _re-read_ them. Ever."

"Ooh, ickle firsties out of bed?"

The three turned to see a floating man drifting towards them with a big grin on his face. "Peevesy should tell Filch, he should."

"Poltergeist," Evie murmured.

"Ghostbusters," Harry said loudly.

The poltergeist immediately seemed to pale and did a flip in his rush to get away. The three watched him vanish through a wall.

"So, our resident poltergeist?" Harry asked Hermione.

"I haven't seen anyone terrify him like that before," Hermione said, shaking her head.

"What can I say? We're famous," Harry shrugged.

"More like our containment unit is," Evie said dryly. "Though I suppose the Ghostbusters do have a bit of a reputation."

"An _awesome_ one," Harry agreed. He paused as they came to a set of stairs. "Uh, the common room entrance is up, right?"

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose.

 **HP/RGB**

"So, Hermione, any plans for Christmas?"

Evie and Hermione had not taken no for an answer, meaning Harry had quickly found himself forced into a chair with a heavy book in his hand. This just meant he had to come up with more creative methods of dodging work.

"I'm going home, if that's what you mean," Hermione said, glancing up.

"Your family do anything for Christmas?" Harry asked. "I mean, really, family get together or anything?"

"No, not really," Hermione admitted. She turned a page in her book, " _Daemons and Dragons: A Comprehensive Guide to Magical Beasts_ ". "I really just have my parents. They were both only children, and my grandparents passed away several years ago."

Harry lit up. "Then you should come to the Firehouse for Christmas!"

Hermione blinked. "Harry, I don't think we could afford to drop everything and buy plane tickets to America."

"But what if that wasn't an issue?" Harry asked, a gleam creeping into his eye as he started getting excited. (A dangerous sign.) "What if you didn't have to pay for plane tickets or for a hotel?"

"Harry…" Hermione began.

"No, really!" Harry insisted. "Just humor me."

"I suppose I've always wanted to see New York…" Hermione said slowly. "But I don't think-"

Harry whooped. "Great! That's great!" He tossed his book to the side and made a beeline for his dorm. " _Evie, where's my phone?!_ "

Hermione groaned. "...It's going to be Thanksgiving all over again…" **(3)**

 **HP/RGB**

Not entirely unsurprisingly, a pretty much free trip to New York City to stay with the world famous Ghostbusters was, indeed, something the Grangers were interested in. As it turned out, Hermione's father was a bit of a fan, and was more than a little shocked to receive a call from Peter Venkman inviting him, his wife, and his daughter to New York.

Hermione was also more than a little shocked to receive a letter from her father informing her of this fact.

"Harry! What is this?"

Harry glanced over at the letter she was waving at him. "A piece of paper with words on it?"

"Not that, you prat!" Hermione snapped, hitting his shoulder. "My dad just wrote telling me that we're going to New York over Christmas!"

Harry gave a pathetic jazz hands. "Surprise?"

"Harry!"

"Hermione? You're coming to Christmas, then?" Evie asked, approaching the two.

"Apparently," Hermione grumbled. "You're not even going to be there to protect me from Harry, are you? What are your parents' plans?"

"My parents are currently onboard the ISS," Evie said with a frown. "I will also be spending Christmas with my uncles." **(4)**

Hermione blinked at that. "Oh. Oh, I'm sorry, Evie, I didn't mean-"

"It's fine," Evie said with a shrug. "They're doing important work. It could be much worse."

"She could be spending Christmas with Great Uncle Cyrus," Harry agreed.

"Great Uncle Cyrus is perfectly nice," Evie shot back.

"He's boring and makes us feed mice," Harry complained.

"And Uncle Egon plays music for his fungii," Evie returned, raising an eyebrow.

"And chases down demons and undead creatures!" Harry retorted. "Like there's even a contest!"

Evie deflated. "...No, not really."

"Who's your Great Uncle Cyrus?" Hermione asked, lost.

"He's our grandfather's brother," Harry explained. "A squib, not that that really makes a difference to the family. He runs Spengler Labs, out in the Mid-West." **(5)**

"He is brilliant," Evie added quickly. "If a little…"

"Boring?" Harry offered.

"I was going to say _prosaic_ ," Evie said flatly.

"Eh. Same thing."

"No it's _not_."

Hermione looked between the two of them. "So my family is coming out to see your family? And celebrate Christmas with them?"

"Well, to be honest, it's not exactly Christmas we celebrate," Harry mused. "It's a strange conglomeration of Christmas, Hanukkah, and Yule. But there's food and gift giving, so there you go."

"Personally, I'm quite excited," Evie admitted. "I've never been able to attend a Yule celebration before, traditional or not."

"Papa Ray's whole family does it," Harry explained to Hermione. "It's a very neat experience."

She looked intrigued by that before she shook her head, clearing it. "But what about transportation?"

Hermione looked to Evie, who shrugged. "To be honest, I'm not entirely sure."

"We have it covered, no worries," Harry assured with a grin. "Do we _ever_ have it covered."

"That's it, I'm scared," Hermione declared.

"I love Christmas," Harry sighed happily. "Still need to go shopping, though. What do you think would happen if we got Dumbledore laxative laced chocolates?"

"Very scared," Hermione amended. "I'm very scared."

 **HP/RGB**

Evie had originally been against slipping Dumbledore laced chocolates, even if she didn't like the man. Then he'd tried to insist that Harry should stay at the castle over Christmas "for his own protection".

...Suddenly, laxative laced chocolates seemed like a wonderful idea.

...They may have had to send some anonymously to Snape, as well. Of course, he was already under investigation by an international team sent in to secure the safety of his classroom (due to pressure from the American Magicals) so maybe they didn't need to further torture him…

On the other hand, neither Harry nor Evie liked Snape at all. In fact, they really _didn't_ like him.

But Christmas snuck up on them before they were expecting it. Mid terms were given (and, for the most part, not taken) and then everyone was caught up in a whirl of packing and preparing to head home.

Or, in Hermione's case, to New York.

The train ride back to King's Cross was filled mostly with reading. Even Harry, who had realized he hadn't read one of the texts his dads had assigned him, shut up and buried his nose in a book.

There was an attempted visit from Malfoy, who was still sore about the lost duel, but Evie (who had hit a brief period of boredom) had spent twenty minutes carving new runic clusters on the door, half to drive off any attempted visitors and half to see what would happen. Malfoy had ended up with a burned hand when he tried to open the door.

And the door had ended up as ashes just minutes before arrival. Clearly, wood remained a poor carving medium.

"I really need to figure out how to fix that," Evie mused as she pulled her trunk from the overhead rack.

"Yeah, that would probably be good," Harry agreed, stepping gingerly over the still crackling remains of the door. "You haven't seen the conductor around, have you?"

"No," Hermione frowned.

"Excellent. Let's get out of here before we do."

While Harry certainly had the most experience vacating the site of a disaster, that was not to say Evie and Hermione hadn't picked up a little as well. So the three very quickly hurried themselves off the express, and into the crowds.

"Do you see them?" Harry asked Hermione and Evie.

"No," Hermione frowned, looking around for any sign of her parents. "They can't be-"

"Oh no," Evie interrupted suddenly, voice more amused and resigned than actually worried.

" _HAWWY! EVIE! HE-MI-NEE!_ "

And then all they could see was slime.

"Eyuck!" Harry shouted, desperately wiping the green slime from his face. "Slimer! What have we told you about that?!"

"This is so gross," Hermione groaned, doing her best to clear her vision.

"Towel?" asked a calm voice behind them.

Harry turned immediately, grinning at the sight of his dads, Egon holding out a towel. "Dads!"

"We thought Slimer might get a little excited," Ray admitted as Harry took the towel. He passed another one to Hermione and Evie. "He's been missing you these past couple of days."

"Well, we thought it would be better to send him on ahead than let him ride the train," Harry explained, finishing wiping himself relatively clean. His hair still stuck up wildly. "Plus, we didn't want to take that full trap on the train. Turkey ghosts can be nasty."

"Yeah, we had a couple of those here, too," Peter agreed.

"There really is always a reanimated turkey?" Hermione whispered to Evie.

"I told you," Evie agreed. " _Always_."

"Hermione!"

Hermione looked up at the cry with a big smile. "Mum! Dad!"

She moved to embrace the two adults approaching. They also carried suitcases, clearly ready for the trip to New York.

"So, you must be the Ghostbusters," Hermione's father said, sticking a hand out to shake. "It's great to finally meet you in person."

"Yes, yes, everyone's happy," Peter agreed. "But come on, we've got a long trip home."

"Peter!" Ray scolded. "Don't mind him, he's always like that. I'm Dr. Ray Stantz. That's Dr. Peter Venkman. This is Dr. Egon Spengler. And over there is Winston Zeddemore."

"Nice to meet you," Winston agreed with a nod. "And, of course, it's hard to miss Slimer." He nodded upwards, to where Slimer was making happy sounds and flying in circles around the group.

"Yes, I can see that," the man agreed. "Well, I'm Dr. Wendell Granger, and this is my wife, Monica. Of course, you seem to know Hermione already…" **(6)**

"Oh, we've never met," Egon said with a shrug. "But she's a good friend of Harry and Evie's and Harry thought it would be nice to spend the holidays with her."

"And possibly get her a proton pack?" Evie murmured to Harry.

"I admit nothing," Harry whispered back.

"Peter is right that we should get going, though," Ray spoke up. "It is a bit of a long trip and… I think people are starting to stare."

"It's me," Peter sighed dramatically. "What did I tell you? This face just wasn't meant for obscurity."

This brought a round of exasperated head shaking to the other Ghostbusters, even as Winston and Ray helped Harry, Evie, and Hermione with their luggage.

"Er, Dr. Stantz?" Wendell asked as they headed back into the main part of the station.

"Just Ray is fine," Ray said easily. "What is it?"

"Ray, then," Wendell agreed. "You weren't very clear in your messages about how exactly we'd be travelling. I was just curious…"

He trailed off as they exited the building completely. Suddenly, he didn't have anything to say.

"Oh my _God_ ," Hermione moaned.

"Oh my _God_!" Evie exclaimed gleefully.

In front of them, parked like someone would a car (though it took up several spaces) sat a sleek, dark grey jet. Harry had a knowing grin on his face. Evie looked like Christmas had just come early. Hermione looked exasperated.

"We thought we'd take the Ecto-4," Ray said cheerfully. **(7)**

Evie and Harry exchanged a glance, each already knowing what the other was thinking.

" _Shotgun!_ " they shouted together.

"You don't get to ride shotgun in a jet," Egon said dryly.

"Aw…" Harry groaned.

"No, Harry. It takes two people to fly it well, and you're not trained," Egon reminded firmly.

"You just want to take shotgun for yourself," Harry complained.

Egon raised an eyebrow. "Harry, it's a supersonic jet that we don't get to use nearly as often as we'd like. Of _course_ I do."

 **HP/RGB**

The trip was kind of fun. There wasn't a whole lot of space in the jet, but with the souped up capabilities Egon and Ray had built the engine to perform, the ride was only a couple hours. Most of that time was spent playing cards. Even Slimer joined in, aided by a pair of special gloves to assist in not sliming the cards.

It also, Harry informed the others, prevented Slimer from cheating. Apparently the spud was quite the little card shark, and had a nasty habit of tucking cards up his "sleeves". Of course, as he wasn't sliming all the cards, this made it very difficult to pull off.

"I learned how to cheat at cards from him," Harry reminisced. "He's very good at it. In fact the only reason we caught him was he let his guard down around Janine…"

But playing fairly was still difficult. Both the elder Grangers were surprised to find themselves losing rapidly. (It was a game of poker, using pennies as chips.) Harry had an excellent poker face, Evie (almost unconsciously) counted cards and worked equations on the calculator that sat next to her, and Hermione had learned how to play from Harry and Evie and therefore had figured out how best to respond in most situations.

Winston and Ray had both bowed out a while ago, and Ray had his nose buried in a copy of " _Nameless Horrors and What to do About Them_ " **(8)** (an out of print book Evie was already eyeing). Winston was enjoying himself watching the game.

In the end, Evie's calculations narrowly beat out Harry's instinctive grasp of the game, just as they were coming in to land.

"That puts me one game ahead," she informed Harry.

"Not for long," Harry told her, determined, as they exited the Ecto-4. Once again, Ray and Winston helped with the bags, Egon and Peter getting off for flying the plane.

It was honestly a surprise that the jet hadn't landed at some airport. The controls of the Ecto-4 were delicate enough to land carefully on the roof of the firehouse. Harry was the only one who seemed completely unphased by it, which made sense if he'd seen it in action before. Even Evie had blinked in surprise, which Hermione had only caught because she knew the other girl so well.

Janine was waiting for them on the roof.

"Mum!" Harry shouted as soon as he caught sight of her, running to embrace her.

Janine ducked slightly to catch him in a hug. "Harry! I missed you!"

"Janine?" Winston asked in surprise. "What are you doing up here?"

"Greeting you," she replied dryly. "And reporting on a rather important phone call I received." She looked back down at Harry. "Your grandmother is coming to New York to celebrate the holidays."

Despite having five parents, Harry really only had one real grandmother and one real grandfather. Janine's family was completely _insane_ (he'd met cousin Victor _once_ and that was _quite_ more than enough for him), Ray's parents had both died when he was a teenager, and Charlie Venkman was kept as far away as possible from any impressionable youths. But Winston's father, despite having his own reservations when it came to both magic and ghostbusting was a pretty cool guy (Winston's mother had long since passed away). Egon's father was… well, strict was an understatement, and Harry really had as little to do with him as he could, but his mother was _awesome_.

Also, the ultimate helicopter parent, which kind of said a lot about Egon right there, but she was still one of the coolest people Harry had ever met.

Evie was of much the same opinion. And _she'd_ never seen the woman chasing down a possessed Slimer with nothing but a ghost trap. **(9)**

Yes, Mrs. Spengler was not a woman to be trifled with, one of the strongest women Harry had ever met, and the absolute epitome of everything Harry ever wanted to be (with the possible exception of more ghostbusting and the whole gender difference). You just had to keep her away from the blender.

"Grandma's coming?" Harry repeated excitedly. "Best Christmas _ever_!"

Egon had a slightly different reaction. " _Mom's_ coming?"

That would be the fear of the helicopter parent coming through again.

"Yes, and it _sounds_ like she's determined to find you a _girlfriend_ ," Janine shot back, eyes narrowing. " _Speaking_ of which, I think we need to _talk_."

Egon swallowed nervously.

"That doesn't sound good," Hermione murmured to Evie.

"I wouldn't worry too much," Evie whispered back. "It's just the standard 'Uncle Egon did something stupid again' talk. They have a lot more of those than you'd think."

"But that's a bad sign, isn't it?" Hermione asked.

"Not really. Aunt Janine knew Uncle Egon for _years_ before they got together. She knew what she was getting into when this started… and somehow, that didn't send her running for the hills."

"...Oh."

"You must be Dr. and Dr. Granger," Janine said suddenly, changing the subject with a smile. "I hope you don't mind we've set you up in Harry's room. Harry with be rooming with the guys, and Evie and Hermione will be on the fold out sofa."

"I'm sure that will be fine," Monica agreed, matching Janine's smile. "You must be Miss Melnitz, then?"

"Janine is fine," Janine said easily, leading them to the roof entrance, Monica coming to walk beside her.

"Then you must call me Monica…"

"Well, that's the women taken care of," Wendell joked, nudging Egon. "Let's just hope they don't start swapping stories, eh?"

Egon blinked. "...I beg your pardon?"

Peter swung an arm over Wendell's shoulder. "Don't worry about Egon. He doesn't really _get_ human emotion."

"Peter, I dislike your attempts to suggest that I'm not fully human, or that I do not comprehend emotions," Egon said calmly. "Shall I remind you just which one of us is currently attached?"

"Egon, do you know what Janine was angry about?" Peter returned, just as calm.

"...No, but I'm sure she'll inform me later."

"And there you go," Peter told Wendell cheerfully.

Evie sidled up by Harry. "Harry? Precisely what _was_ Aunt Janine angry regarding?"

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes skyward. "Evie, Janine said Egon's mother is looking to get him a girlfriend."

"That does not seem unusual," Evie frowned.

"It implies that she doesn't know that Egon and Janine are together," Harry explained.

"...I understand the implication, but not the problem."

Next to them, Hermione sighed. "Evie, it's considered really rude to not inform your family when you're in a relationship. It implies that the one who didn't is ashamed of their… significant other."

Evie blinked. "...Oh. Someone should probably put that in the book."

Harry nodded sagely. "Someone probably should. I'm surprised no one has yet."

"Book?" Hermione asked. "What book?"

Evie pulled a small but thick, well thumbed book from her pouch and passed it over.

Hermione read the title aloud. "' _The Spengler Guide to Dating'_? _Nineteenth Edition_? What the hell?" **(10)**

"As a general rule, Spenglers aren't so good with romance," Harry explained. "To the point of, it's a fucking _miracle_ they haven't died out. And years ago, one of them went to a friend who studied social interactions and asked him to write a book about it in language that they could understand. It's been updated since, and, well…"

"It's very useful," Evie offered. "At least, as far as I can tell. I know my parents would never have gotten together without it."

"Didn't your father go up to your mother and tell her that she 'distracted him from his work' and that he 'believed that implied a potential romantic attraction'?" Harry asked dryly.

Evie nodded. "She says it's the most romantic thing he's ever said to her."

There was a pause.

"I suddenly understand the need for a manual," Hermione whispered to Harry.

"Oh, it gets worse," Harry remarked dryly. "You haven't heard how our _grandparents_ got together."

 **HP/RGB**

The Grangers settled in pretty well, all things considered. The guys were only there half the time (the other half being out on busts) and Harry frequently went with them ("I'm losing my touch, stuck up at a castle in Scotland!"). Evie joined in occasionally, but spent more time in the lab, reading Egon's notes and blueprints, and taking notes of her own.

Hermione, for her part, spent quite a bit of time with Evie. She was genuinely curious how the packs worked, and Evie was… well not _happy,_ exactly, but certainly not _unhappy_ to show her.

Egon pitched in on occasion as well.

This left Wendell and Monica spending most of their time with Janine, who was happy with the distraction from filing. (Her new magazines hadn't come in yet.)

Or, at least, it did until the end of the first week, when Peter came storming into the garage with a pack strapped to his back.

"Okay!" he yelled loudly. "Who wants to learn to shoot a proton pack?!"

It was actually funny how quickly Wendell made it to the pole. He'd done a good job of acting normally, but he couldn't contain the fanboy inside completely.

Hermione was another floor up, and yet just behind him.

Monica was content to watch.

It was quickly determined that Evie and Harry could use some practice as well, so Peter took the four of them out to one of the two warehouses they owned. The first was where they usually kept Ecto-4 and Ecto-8 (a boat they, again, rarely used) as well as a few other vehicles and other larger things that needed to be stored. The second was where Egon and Ray conducted their more… volatile experiments, and, as such, was the perfect location to learn to shoot a proton pack.

Hermione, who'd been learning to shoot magic around, was able to quickly pick up how to aim, and aim well. Harry would probably always be a better shot, but she was soon matching Evie shot for shot.

Wendell took a bit longer. He hadn't expected the kick-back of the throwers, but soon enough he too was at least hitting the targets Peter had strung up around the warehouse.

"And it's just the four of you that do this?" he asked after an hour of shooting, getting quite tired. "All day?"

"Hey, it's a tough job," Peter said with a shrug. "But someone's got to do it. And Janine occasionally pitches in, though she prefers sitting behind a desk."

"I think I might, too," Wendell admitted. "I thought I heard rumors about a fifth Ghostbuster a while back, though."

Peter frowned thoughtfully. "Uh… Oh! You're probably thinking of Louis. He was our accountant for a while. Didn't last. There was a thing with Janine that didn't end well, and then his nephew getting pulled into a portion of the spirit world was kind of the last straw… He moved out to Florida a few years ago." **(11)**

"Good riddance," Harry added. "I don't think he ever actually did anything other than sit in the basement and tell us how we were losing money."

Peter grinned. "That's what _I_ said."

Wendell looked between them. "...Really?"

"Not really, they're being asses again," Evie informed him matter-of-factly. "Louis saved their lives on more than one occasion. It's just that he never quite fit in with the others, as I understand it."

"How is it you understand that, but not the concept of telling your parents when you're in a relationship?" Hermione asked incredulously.

"I understand that concept," Evie argued, before pausing a moment. "Well, I do _now_."

"Yeah, okay, Louis helped. A bit," Peter grumbled. "You want a better account of him, talk to Janine. She liked him, for some godforsaken reason."

"She liked him because he helped around the office," Evie said. "And he liked paperwork."

"And you can pick up on _that_?" Hermione asked.

"That's not so much picking up as actually knowing," Evie replied. "I asked Janine awhile ago."

Hermione groaned. "You are impossible, you know that?"

Evie blinked at that, then looked down at herself in mild confusion.

"Figure of speech, Spengs," Harry sighed, before taking another shot at a target, hitting it dead center.

"I _knew_ that," Evie said quickly, firing at the same target and hitting just off of Harry's shot.

"Well, it doesn't look like your skills have deteriorated nearly as much as you said," Peter observed with a grin. "Keeping in practice?"

"The only thing we've busted was a troll," Harry complained. "And yeah, it was big, but it was stupid."

"Speaking of magical creatures, you wouldn't happen to know how to tame a cerberus, would you, Uncle Peter?" Evie asked.

"Uh… no, that's really more Ray's area," Peter frowned, eyes narrowing. "Why do you ask?"

"Because there's one guarding a trapdoor at our school and we're curious," Evie reported. "...I think we forgot to tell you in the excitement of the holidays."

"A cerberus?" Wendell demanded. "In a school? Hermione?"

"We only just found out about it," Hermione said quickly.

"Yeah, if we had known about it any sooner, we'd have come raving to you guys," Harry agreed. "Any tips for busting a cerberus?"

Peter scratched his chin. "Watch out for all the heads? I dunno, Ray would know better."

"That's what _I_ said," Evie reminded.

"Fine, fine, we'll ask Papa Ray," Harry agreed. "In the meantime, I bet I can hit more bulls eyes than you."

"Hang on, aren't we going to talk about the fact that there's a _cerberus_ in a _school_?" Wendell demanded.

Harry, Evie and Peter exchanged glances.

"Well, no, we weren't really planning on it," Peter said slowly. "Why?"

"Because it's dangerous!" Wendell cried. "Someone could get hurt!"

"Well, it's a British magic school," Harry said, as though that explained everything. "They're all _really weird_."

"Not Britons, but British magicals," Evie clarified.

"Plus, no one's been hurt," Harry added. "So it's probably okay. And we're doing research on how to stop it if something _does_ happen."

"Exactly," Peter agreed. "See? All under control."

"And if it does hurt someone, then it opens the school up to all kinds of lawsuits," Harry added gleefully.

Hermione groan. "Oh my _God_ , Harry, _not helping_."

 **HP/RGB**

Of course, Ray knew exactly what they were looking for.

"Music soothes the savage beast," he recited sagely.

"Really?" Harry demanded. "That's it?"

"Well, it's not a certain thing," Ray admitted. "Some owners train their cerberus out of it, but most don't bother. It's not exactly well known, but was recorded in ancient legends, when Orpheus ventured to the underworld and was able to turn the Cerberus away with his lute."

"Yes, but that was _the_ Cerberus, not _a_ cerberus," Evie pointed out with a frown.

"What's the difference?" Hermione asked.

"One's a lot more powerful than the other," Harry explained to her. "Probably, at least. We may have cerberus in the magical world, and they're probably offspring of the original Cerberus, but there is a distinct difference."

"Precisely," Ray agreed. "The guardian of the underworld had the tail of a snake, for one."

"It also was claimed to have up to a hundred heads, most of them of snakes, with an undetermined number of dog heads," Evie added. "And the plant aconite first grew from its vomit." **(12)**

"Why would we need to know that?" Harry complained. "Seriously, why do _you_ know that?"

"Why don't you?" Evie asked.

"My point is," Ray interrupted, "just because the Cerberus and modern cerberus aren't the same thing doesn't mean that they don't share several traits. One of those would be a weakness to music. Most of them will fall asleep almost immediately upon hearing it."

"So…" Harry said slowly, "I don't suppose you'd be willing to help teach me a musical instrument?"

"Sorry, Harry," Ray apologized. "You know I'm completely tone deaf."

"Yeah, and the less said about Papa Peter's musical abilities, the better," Harry agreed. He glanced at Hermione and Evie.

"Don't look at me," Hermione said quickly. "I never learned. It never came up before."

"I have had precisely three piano lessons," Evie said flatly. "I am not particularly talented, and even if I were, I would question the feasibility of transporting a piano or keyboard to Hogwarts' third floor corridor."

"Point," Harry agreed. He thought for a moment. "Say, what do you think about getting a little music player? It wouldn't take much to ward it, would it? Provided you don't accidentally melt it into slag."

"I don't think I'd melt it," Evie argued. "You know, probably."

"We'll need a good CD," Harry mused. "Any suggestions?"

Ray tilted his head. "Well, the psychomagnotheric slime always liked Jackie Williams."

There was a pause.

"I was thinking something a little more relaxing, thanks," Harry said at length. "There's got to be a decent lullaby out there. And we're going Christmas shopping later, so we can find something."

"You know, now that you say that, that's probably a better idea," Ray agreed. "Unless you end up wanting something classical. Egon's got a good collection of records. And a few of rap Shakespeare for some reason we were never able to quite understand." **(13)**

 **HP/RGB**

Christmas shopping turned more into sightseeing for Hermione. There was a lot to see in New York City, and Harry was happy to keep up a running commentary.

Not that the commentary was anything like she would have gotten from anyone else.

"So, over there's Rockefeller Plaza. My dads once got zapped by the statue of Atlas there. It threw a globe at them and chased them across the skating rink." **(14)**

"That's Grand Central Station. Papa Peter once got Shanghaied by the ghost of Casey Jones there. The others had to chase after him in the Ecto-1. Ended up all the way out in New Jersey trying to prevent a train crash." **(15)**

"There's the UN. They don't like the Ghostbusters very much, not since the incident with the possessed flagpoles. There was an explosion involved." **(16)**

Hermione couldn't keep a small grin off her face as they wandered the streets. Harry really had the most incredible stories, and the sad thing was, they were probably all true.

"We'll have to make sure to see the Statue of Liberty while you're here," Harry added cheerfully. "I can point out exactly which cracks on it we caused."

Hermione laughed at that.

"No, really," Harry repeated cheerfully. "Couple dozen, right here." He raised his foot to tap on the side of it. "It's a funny story, really. Involves an art museum. There's a few scorch marks inside we're responsible for, too." **(17)**

Hermione shook her head. "You really love New York, don't you?"

Harry shrugged. "It's my home. I grew up here. I know most of the British magicals want me to drop everything and come back to Britain, but I have so many happy memories here. I don't want to leave."

"I don't think I would, either," Hermione agreed. "At least, not if I'd grown up here."

"Yeah, it has its ups and downs," Harry agreed.

Behind them, there was shouting at an intersection. Hermione blinked at the profanity.

"So, we should probably get back on the subway if we want to get back to the Firehouse before people start panicking," Harry continued, checking his watch as he ignored the furious yelling. "I know your parents will be worried if we aren't back within twenty minutes."

"Yes, you're right," Hermione agreed. She cast one last look behind her before Harry started for the nearest subway station.

"I'm just curious," Hermione mused as they headed down the steps. "I thought you said that your family usually celebrated an amalgamation of Christmas, Yule, and Hanukkah. I've seen plenty of Christmas stuff, and I know Ray's been prepping for Yule, but I haven't seen anything for Hanukkah."

"Well, no," Harry agreed. "I'm not surprised you didn't realize. Hanukkah actually started December 1st this year. It ended before we arrived."

"Oh," Hermione realized. "So they already celebrated it?"

"Yes. Nothing big, or anything, but there was a series of celebrations. I'm kind of disappointed I missed it, to be honest. But we should be here next year."

Hermione mused on that as Harry read the train schedules and mapped out the fastest way for them to get home.

 **HP/RGB**

When the Ghostbusters were out working, Monica and Wendell could frequently be found gathered around Janine's desk.

As they were currently.

The conversation had started as a discussion of differences in the magical communities, and had somehow reached the topic of gardening. Looking back, no one was quite sure how that happened.

At about that time, Harry, Hermione, and Evie came sliding down the pole.

"Mum, it's about lunchtime," Harry called. "We're gonna head to the fast food place on the corner, if that's okay."

"That's fine," Janine agreed.

"You guys want anything?" Harry asked.

"My usual," Janine answered with a smile, before looking towards the Grangers.

"Surprise us," Monica decided.

"And get something for Slimer, too, or he'll pout all day," Janine advised.

"Will do," Harry agreed. "See you later." He led the other two out of the Firehouse.

"It's so good to see Hermione with friends," Monica sighed happily. "She always had trouble, growing up."

"Harry, too," Janine admitted. "He was home schooled, so he didn't know many other kids."

"And now they're getting up to the oddest things," Wendell said, shaking his head. "I'm not sure what to think about that, to be honest."

"Just be glad they're not getting into the _really_ weird stuff," Janine advised.

"Really weird?" Wendell asked. "You mean…" He wracked his brain for the current case the guys were out on. "...fighting the ghost of a Japanese Warlord isn't weird?"

Janine shook her head. "Honey, you ain't seen _nothing_ yet."

"But they fight bizarre things on a daily basis," Monica frowned. "How does it get any weirder than that?"

"Oh, I _really_ wish you hadn't said that," Janine sighed. "Because whenever someone says something like that, then-"

She was interrupted by a man sliding down the fire pole. " _Oh, Ja-ni-ne_!" he practically sang. "I was in the neighborhood, and I just couldn't _not_ stop by and see my favorite secretary…~"

Janine fought the urge to bury her head in her hands. "Oh for Christs sake."

This probably wasn't going to end well.

 **A/N: I am honestly curious to see who can guess the man and how he got in the upstairs of the firehouse without coming in the front door. I should also say that I was totally not planning to put it in here, but** ** _damn_** **if he didn't sneak in anyways. Eh, it's probably funnier this way...**

 **(1)** ** _I_** **want that on a t-shirt.**

 **(2) A reference book listed by Ray in the IDW comics.**

 **(3) Yes. Yes it will be.**

 **(4) Evie's parents are a little hands off when it comes to actual parenting. Her father takes after her grandfather. Unfortunately. She... does not have much to say on the subject.**

 **(5) Uncle Cyrus was introduced in the RGB episode "Cry Uncle". He doesn't believe in ghosts and gets Egon to come back to work with him in the labs... and immediately puts his genius nephew with two doctorates to work feeding mice. No, I am not kidding. He then tells him that if he keeps up the good work, he'll be running them through mazes in no time. Egon... is less than excited about the prospect.**

 **(6) I decided to stick with Wendell and Monica for names. Because I guess I never understood why Hermione would bother to change their first names if she was giving them new identities...**

 **(7) In the old NOW RGB comics, the Ecto-4 was a jet and, therefore, the coolest thing ever. It's kind of the Blackbird from X-men, only it can shoot proton streams and belongs to the Ghostbusters, meaning it's even more awesome. It apparently was originally going to be the Ecto-3... but then someone realized there already** ** _was_** **an Ecto-3, and there you go.**

 **(8) Reference book named in RGB episode "Loathe thy Neighbor".**

 **(9) As in RGB episode "Ghostworld", where we all learned just how kick-ass Mrs. Spengler is. Unfortunately, we don't have a first name. So I'm sticking with calling her Mrs. Spengler.**

 **(10) This probably only exists in my head cannon. But it would** ** _explain so much_** **. Also, let's face it, the family could really use it.**

 **(11) Louis was last seen in the RGB episode "Busters in Toyland", and it doesn't seem off the mark that having his nephew kidnapped like that wouldn't be the straw that broke the camel's back. No one seems to like him much, with the sole exception of Janine, so Harry's rude remarks don't seem too out of place, if he's picked it up from the others. (Though he probably wouldn't say it to Louis's face.) He did help save the guys on more than one occasion, though. The idea of him moving to Florida in particular is from the IDW comics, where he moved to Ocala, Florida after the events of the second movie.**

 **(12) This is true. I cannot make this stuff up.**

 **(13) In the RGB episode "Three Men and an Egon", Egon goes on about his new tunes: Rap Shakespeare. "To be or not to be; like, that is the question, yo." (Also, as this is** ** _Egon_** **quoting it, the whole thing just becomes about ten times funnier.) Then he pulls out his pimple-seeking-rocket-helmet, and all attempts at seriousness just go out the window.**

 **(14) From RGB episode "Janine Melnitz, Ghostbuster".**

 **(15) From RGB episode "The Last Train to Oblivion".**

 **(16) I made this one up. :)**

 **(17) Yes, Harry is referencing the events of Ghostbusters II.**

 **Okay, after the unusually long number of notes, this is done! Finally! Thanks for reading, and please review!**

 **I really do want to see how many people can guess who the guy at the end is. Good luck!**

 **Next Time: The Ghostbusters Deal with Visitors of Many Types.**


	8. Chapter 7

**So... As it turns out, writer's block** ** _sucks_** **. (Like you didn't all already know that.) But I'm back, with a brand new chapter! And also, I must say I'm disappointed that I got one (count 'em,** ** _one_** **) guess on who our mysterious visitor was. Granted, it was wrong and didn't take into account how the hell he got on the upper floors without walking in the door, but it was at least a guess! Come on, people, it's not hard!**

 **I should just not tell you anything. But I'm nice. So here you are. You're welcome.**

 **I also want to say that I'm now the proud owner of a copy of Ghostbusters: The Board Game. (Not the one from the eighties, the more recent one.) It's one of the most complicated things I've ever played: a scenario based co-op game for 1-4 players. It is also totally awesome. Kind of reminds me of Dungeons and Dragons, only you can get slimed. Which only inhances its inate awesomeness.**

Chapter Seven: In Which the Ghostbusters Deal With Visitors of Many Types

"What the hell are you doing here?"

The man offered an easy smile. "Oh, come on, Janine, don't be like that. We just need a little translation."

"Yeah, and I still remember what happened the _last_ time you needed a 'little translation'," Janine shot back.

"That was a one-off," the man claimed quickly.

"Janine?" Monica asked. "Exactly what's going on here?"

"Yes, aren't you going to introduce us?" the man asked, winking at Monica. "Tell me, have you ever been tested for ES-"

"Stop talking now," Janine snapped. "She's _married_."

"Well, you can't blame a guy for trying," the man said with a shrug. "They aren't your versions of Ortiz and Alexander, are they? Because that would just be weird."

" _I don't even know who those are_ ," Janine growled.

"Too bad. Well, Ortiz, at least. Alexander can always go rot."

Janine pinched the bridge of her nose. "For your information, these are Wendell and Monica Granger. They're here visiting from England."

"Ooh. Tea and crumpets, then?" the man asked cheerfully. "I could go for something relaxing. No?"

"Wendell? Monica?" Janine sighed. "This is Dr. Peter Venkman. He's from another dimension. And god only knows what he's doing here." **(1)**

"I told you," Venkman said with a shrug. "We need a quick translation. It shouldn't take more than a few minutes of your time. Well, your Egon's time, at least."

"And why, pray tell, can't your Egon do it?" Janine asked.

"He's in Bolivia, consulting on a case. Apparently a seventh street has appeared at this crossroads that's only supposed to have six. And something's up with the communications."

"It's the _Siete Calles_ ," called a voice as another man came sliding down the pole. "According to the history books, there was originally seven streets, until one was closed down by an influential man. Now there are only six, but they still call it by the old name."

"Thank you, Raymond," Venkman agreed. "I'm sure Janine found that absolutely fascinating."

"I oughta charge you a consulting fee," Janine grumbled as she reached for the radio to call the guys. "Add a surcharge for having to put up with you."

Venkman clutched at his heart. "You wound me, Janine. I'm hurt. Really. And after this connection we share-"

"I'm _taken_ ," she snarled, flipping the switch of the radio. "Central to Ghostbusters. Come in Ghostbusters."

"You hear that?" Venkman asked Stantz. "She's taken."

"Would it be a literature professor named Roger?" Stantz asked her. **(2)**

"No, not that it would be any of your business if it _were_!" Janine jabbed at the radio again. " _Central to Ghostbusters!_ "

The door to the Firehouse opened.

"We're back!" Harry called, several bags in hand. Next to him, Hermione carried two trays of drinks, and next to her, Evie was already sucking at a large soda. "Ho-ly crap. There's not something you see everyday."

"I'm lost," Hermione admitted.

"Raymond," Venkman said, "there are kids in the firehouse. Why are there kids in the firehouse?"

"Because I live here," Harry sighed, rolling his eyes as he approached Janine's desk and dropped the bags of food on it. " _Slimer! Lunch!_ "

" _Ooh bowy!_ "

Slimer shot through the wall, making a beeline for the food. Harry held up a bag and put up a hand in a "stop" motion, ignoring the surprised shouts of Venkman and Stantz behind him.

"Now, Slimer, you know the rules, right?" Harry asked. "You get this, and then you don't eat anyone else's food?"

Slimer nodded eagerly. " _Uh-huh! Uh-huh-uh-huh-uh-huh!_ "

"Good boy," Harry said, tossing him the bag. Slimer caught it and immediately dug in.

Stantz's eyes were wide. "You actually… how did you…"

"Aw, Slimer's not so bad," Harry assured with a grin. "It's just when he borrows your pillow that you have to look out."

The two alternate Ghostbusters exchanged a glance.

"Okay, we got food," Harry said cheerfully. "Who wants some? Not you two, we didn't know you were coming."

"That's okay. We just ate," Venkman said, looking slightly ill as he stared at Slimer.

"That'd better be diet, Evie," Janine warned as Harry handed her her own food and drink.

"It's mostly diet," Evie offered. "And caffeine-free." **(3)**

Janine frowned, but didn't say anything.

"So, what exactly brings a pair of Ghostbusters from an alternate universe up to our neck of the woods?" Harry asked cheerfully.

Statz held up a leather bound book. "We really need a translation. Our Egon is in Bolivia, and we can't reach him, and we can't read his notes. ...Again."

Evie glanced up. "What sort of notes?"

" _Malku_ , does yours do that too?" Harry complained.

"Do what?" Hermione asked.

"Papa Egon gets in the habit of taking notes that skip over big chunks of whatever he's thinking at the time, so no one else can understand them," Harry explained to her. "Then he writes half of what he does in shorthand and parts in other languages, and it's really, _really_ a pain to read."

"It's not so bad," Evie shrugged. "You should see my father's notes sometime. He does something similar." She paused. "So does Great Uncle Cyrus. And Grandfather, for that matter."

"So do _you_ ," Harry pointed out. "You write half your work in fucking _runes._ "

"You mean you can read this?" Stantz asked, holding the book up, at the same time Venkman muttered, " _Papa_ Egon?"

"Well, I haven't seen it yet," Evie said with another shrug. She took another swallow of soda. "But probably."

"In that case, do you mind-"

" _Oh_ , no," Janine broke in. "She's staying right here and if you need anything translated, you can bring it here for her to look at."

"You don't trust us?" Venkman asked, giving her a puppy dog look.

" _God_ , no."

"Actually, I was just going to ask her to read this," Stantz said quickly, opening the book to a marked page and handing it over.

Evie took it in one hand, the other still on her soda, and scanned the page. She frowned at a couple moments, re-read a part, flipped to the next page, and muttered to herself.

"Anything?" Stantz asked hopefully.

"Yes," Evie agreed. She flipped another page. "You guys are in serious trouble. Exactly why did you need this translated?"

Venkman and Stantz exchanged a glance.

"Well, there have been a couple odd occurrences," Stantz began. "A few robberies. We contacted Egon, who mentioned he'd studied something similar before, and then we got cut off by whatever it is down there. But he did say it was extraordinarily bad, so we figured we should get this translated as soon as possible."

"That's a good call," Evie agreed. "From what I can tell, your notes here detail signs of a potential apocalypse. If those signs are accurate, I'd suggest that someone-probably a group of someones, actually-is trying to summon Cthulhu."

Stantz blinked. "Oh. Well. That's not good."

"How not good, Raymond?" Venkman asked. "Keeping in mind I have no idea what that is."

"Very not good," Stantz said.

"What your Dr. Stantz is trying to say is the Cthulhu is one of the old ones," Evie explained, flipping another page. "It sunk beneath the waves millennia ago, and if it rises, it'll make Gozer seem like a petulant child."

"Very not good," Venkman repeated. "Got it."

"If it rises, we're screwed," Stantz added.

"Yeah, probably," Harry agreed. "Cthulhu isn't the type to play around. And there's a good chance whoever's planning on summoning him has summoned other things up to protect them. You'll want to look into securing your copy of the Necronomicon."

"You have a copy of the Necronomicon?" Stantz asked in surprise.

"No," Harry said, shaking his head. "But we know who does." **(4)**

"I'm surprised you know so much on the subject," Evie said, glancing at Harry. "It's not your usual _modus operandi_."

"Yeah, well, Ghostbusters versus Cthulhu? Best bedtime story ever," Harry replied with a shrug. "I did some research. Well, I say research-"

"That's right!" Stantz remembered. "Your Peter said that they'd faced Cthulhu before." He paused. "Any tips?"

Evie and Harry exchanged a glance.

"Well," Harry said slowly, "you're going to want a _really big_ generator…"

 **HP/RGB**

When the Ecto-1, looking like it had seen better days, crept into the garage, there was still a small crowd gathered around Janine's desk. Harry, Evie, and the two alternate Ghostbusters had ended up swapping "war stories" to Janine's exasperation and the Granger's slightly worried shock.

As soon as it pulled to a stop, however, Janine had already stood and was making her way to the car.

"Janine?" Egon asked as the four slightly weary looking men emerged. "Is something wr-"

That was about as far as he got before Janine had marched up to him, grabbed the lapels of his jumpsuit, and yanked him down into a searing kiss.

"You know, I think I'm depressed we never get greeted like that," Peter commented with a grin as he pulled a trap from the car.

"Come on, Peter, there was that time with Irena," Ray reminded. "At least you got that." **(5)**

Peter blinked. "Oh. Right. Well, it should happen more often."

"Not with Janine, unless you want Egon biting your head off, man," Winston pointed out. He glanced up at the desk, finally catching sight of Stantz and Venkman, both of whom appeared to be in shock. "Hold up. Looks like we got trouble."

Janine finally pulled back from Egon and shot a scathing glare at Venkman. "Taken!" she snapped, before grabbing a bemused looking Egon and dragging him down the steps to the basement.

"Did I just see what I think I saw?" Stantz asked Venkman.

"I don't know. My brain's still trying to process it."

"Hi, Dads!" Harry said cheerfully, waving. "Welcome back!"

" _Dads?_ " Venkman repeated incredulously.

"Hey, Squirt," Peter greeted. "What's going on here?" He shot a glance at the other Ghostbusters. "Because I don't care what you say, you're not borrowing Egon again."

"That really wasn't our fault," Stantz muttered.

"Come on, you guys wrecked our firehouse," Venkman accused. "We have a few favors to call in."

"That wasn't us, it was the primal god chasing us," Peter argued. "And, I think borrowing Egon for a few days is more than enough payment… especially after what happened."

"What exactly happened?" Hermione whispered to Harry.

"Not sure of all the details," Harry whispered back. "I think they ended up in hell. Someone died. Papa Egon doesn't really talk about it." **(6)**

"We just needed a translation," Stantz broke in, holding up the book again. "And your… um…"

"That's Evie," Harry offered, gesturing to the girl in question, who was again fiddling with a PKE meter.

"Evie, then, was able to read it just fine," Stanz finished.

"Great," Peter said. "Then get the hell out of our firehouse."

 **HP/RGB**

"Just what _exactly_ was that?" Monica finally asked, after the two had left.

"They're from another dimension," Harry explained with a shrug.

"I hate that guy," Peter grumbled. "I mean, sometimes I just want to-"

"Papa Peter and the other Peter don't really get along," Harry added. "Not unless there's a ghost, or something."

"To be fair, though, it was sort of inadvertently our fault their firehouse got wrecked," Ray pointed out. "I mean, we didn't choose to end up there, and there was a primal god after us-"

"And Janine pulled all our fat out of the fryer," Winston added. **(7)**

"Is that… normal?" Wendell asked slowly.

"Eh," Harry shrugged. "Not normal, per say, but we've seen weirder."

"Indeed."

Everyone turned to see Egon coming out of the basement, an empty trap in his hands. "But it's not safe to mess about too much with alternate universes, so we try to stay out of each other's way as much as possible."

"It's a lot easier for us," Peter muttered. "We're not the ones with a dimensional doorway in our basement."

"I'd still love to build one," Ray sighed. "Just think-"

"I don't care what you say, we're not building a dimensional doorway!" Peter declared.

"It really is surprising seeing Uncle Peter being the sensible one," Evie murmured to Harry.

"I _know_ ," Harry whispered back. "Like we're in some sort of flip-" He abruptly broke off as he realized what he was saying. "Er… mirror world?"

"More accurate than your original word choice," Evie agreed.

"And won't give me nightmares," Harry added. "I may have liked the 'Ghostbusters versus Cthulhu' story, but that one…"

Evie made a mental note. As she didn't live at the firehouse, she didn't have nearly as much blackmail on Harry as those he lived with. And she could always use a willing test subject.

 **HP/RGB**

"You know, I've been curious," Wendell commented one day. He, Peter, and Egon were lounging in the small living room area, he and Peter not-watching television and Egon reading a book entitled " _Ovanliga Svampar_ ". **(8)**

"About what?" Peter asked absently.

"The movie," Wendell said. "Your movie. Well, both of them, I suppose."

"What about them?" Peter asked, turning to look at him at the suggestion of a much more interesting topic (focused on him).

"Well, I guess I was just wondering how accurate they were," Wendell said slowly.

"Ah…" Peter began, leaning back. "I guess there were parts that were pretty accurate. I mean, not everything was right. Obviously, we don't look much like the guys who played us. But we did get kicked out of Columbia and start up a ghostbusting business."

"But the whole Gozer thing?" Wendell asked.

"Happened," Peter agreed. "Though I don't think the marshmallow explosion was nearly that big. There was a bit of overflow when we trapped Stay Puft, though. Oh, and we did manage to trap him. You know, after we'd crossed the streams and stuff, he didn't just blow up. That was a pain."

"Huh," Wendell mused. He glanced over at Egon. "Is it true that you tried to drill a hole in your head?"

Egon scowled over the edge of his book as Peter snickered.

"Yeah, he totally did," Peter said.

"It's called _trepanation_ , and there is a history of successful usage dating back to before six thousand BC," Egon snapped.

"Yes, for _medical_ purposes, Spengs," Peter argued. "Not as some twisted manner of increasing brain function."

"It worked for Peter Halvorson," Egon muttered darkly, sinking deeper into his seat. **(9)**

"You're joking," Wendell said incredulously.

"I wish I was joking," Peter corrected.

"What about the second movie?" Wendell asked.

"Well, we did battle Vigo the Carpathian," Peter agreed. "And there was a brief time we were shut down. It was only a few months. And it had nothing to do with Gozer. There were some legal entanglements we were getting nailed by courtesy of a nasty gooper that called himself 'The Ghostmaster'. It took some time to get that figured out, but when we discovered a river of slime under the streets, the authorities were persuaded to move the case along pretty quickly." **(10)**

"So you were shut down for a few months?" Wendell asked. "What about Harry?"

"Apparently people frown upon a kid being dragged along on dangerous busts, and we weren't about to get into how we picked him up in the first place, so they cut him from the movie," Peter explained with a shrug. "I think he's still a bit pissed at that, to be honest."

"No, what happened to him when you shut down?" Wendell clarified.

"Well, we were all still living here," Peter began, "so he stayed here as well. We all got other jobs to support him… and ourselves, of course. Winston drove an ice cream truck. The kids loved him. So did Slimer, for that matter. Like in the movie, I did end up hosting a late night program. I still have a few recordings of the show around here, but I wouldn't recommend them. Ray bought a book shop. He still owns it, actually, just manages it from afar now. It's pretty popular amongst the occult fans for that reason. And Egon did join a research team back at the university studying… I forget. What were you studying?"

"Something I'm quite sure is far beyond your feeble comprehension," Egon deadpanned, still not pleased about the last exchange.

"That sounds about right," Peter agreed easily. "And Janine played stay at home Mom and worked with Louis on the case files. Louis was still hanging around at that point."

"And they were…?" Wendell trailed off.

"Um… it's not really something we've talked about," Peter admitted slowly. "They might have been together. I think they were. I think Egon's in denial about the whole thing. There was definitely _something_ going on, though. It ended not too long before he moved."

Egon made a sound from where he was sitting that fell somewhere between a grunt and a snort.

Wendell grinned. "What about the toy thing?"

"The toy thing…?" Peter asked, trying to remember as Egon groaned. He abruptly grinned. "Oh! The _toy_ thing. Yes, Egon, tell him about the toy thing."

"Mother was furious about that," Egon mumbled.

"So you did have toys growing up?" Wendell clarified.

" _Yes_ ," Egon said firmly. "Granted, they were mostly educational toys, but I _had toys_." He paused. "Although I did straighten a slinky once."

"But why would you-?"

"I was trying to build a small engine and had run out of wiring," Egon explained. "It seemed like a reasonable substitution at the time."

Wendell stared.

"Of course, now I know better," Egon added, pursing his lips. "Stainless steel is not a good conductor of electricity, nor is it a good idea to use uninsulated wiring in any mechanical design. In my defense, I was four at the time."

" _You were_ -"

Peter gently kicked the shocked man. "Don't even ask. Really. They start building young in that family. Remind me to tell you sometime about the time Egon got turned into a baby and somehow managed to use tinker toys to build a ladder bridge out the window."

"That _never happened_ ," Egon snapped, cheeks flushing furiously as he returned to his book.

"He's still in denial," Peter added unnecessarily. **(11)**

"So where was Harry during all of this?" Wendell asked.

"Firehouse, mostly," Peter said with a shrug. "He did come with us to meet Oscar the first time, and he helped drive the Statue of Liberty-"

"You _actually_ drove the _Statue_ of _Liberty_?!"

"Oh, yeah, Libby was great," Peter grinned.

"Hold on a minute," Wendell said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I need a moment to process this."

"That's the usual reaction," Peter agreed.

Wendell took a moment to gather himself before asking the next question. "So, what ever happened to Dana Barrett?"

"I think I hear Janine calling me," Peter decided suddenly, jumping up and heading for the stairs.

Wendell looked towards Egon, who finally sighed and lowered his book.

"Peter doesn't like to dwell on it, as they parted on frustrating terms. Dana returned to the Philharmonic not long after the events at the museum, and actively avoids Peter to the best of her abilities. She still contacts the rest of us occasionally, though. I understand Oscar started school not long ago, and Janine meets up with her for coffee approximately once a month."

Wendell blinked. He'd always personally thought that Dana and Peter would end up together. But maybe that was just the romanticizing of the movies. "Really?"

"I know," Egon agreed, turning back to his book. "I can't believe she still has anything to do with us either."

Wendell thought for a moment before shooting Egon a sly sidelong glance.

"So, the mood slime… did you and Ray really sleep with it?"

Egon choked on air. "You know, I think I'd better go check on Peter." He hightailed it out of the room.

"Hm…" Wendell mused, looking after him. "I wonder if Janine knows…" **(12)**

 **HP/RGB**

"Evie!"

Harry came tearing into the lab, an expression on his face that usually spelled trouble. He was breathing heavily.

Evie glanced up from the partially built proton cannon she was working on. "What's wrong?"

"Janine's mad at Papa Egon again," Harry explained breathlessly. "And I just had a brilliant idea."

"Will this brilliant idea most likely get us in serious trouble?" Evie asked slowly.

"No! No, nothing like that," Harry said, eyes lit up with excitement. "Just an idea about… well… have you gotten Papa Egon a Christmas present yet?"

"...A _Cortinarius orellanus_ ," Evie answered.

"...A _what_?"

"It's a deadly fungus native to Northern Europe," Evie explained. "Why?"

"I don't want to know," Harry decided. "I don't have a present for him yet, and I came up with a really good one, and I need your help to do it. For translations."

"Translations?" Evie frowned, baffled.

"Yeah. Do you have the book?"

 **HP/RGB**

It was the day before Yule that another person came knocking on the door of the firehouse, a person those who lived there knew all too well.

"Hello? Is there anyone in?"

And, because everyone _was_ in (apart from Winston and the elder Grangers, who had headed out on a touristy trip around the city), Janine (at her desk) saw her immediately.

"Mrs. Spengler!"

The blonde woman smiled cheerfully at the redhead. "Janine, dear! It's great to see you! How have you been?"

"Oh, I've been great," Janine said, standing up as she headed to meet the older woman. "How are you? The trip wasn't bad, I hope?"

"It was fine," Mrs. Spengler said, waving a hand dismissively. "Absolutely horrid, of course, but it's over now, and that's fine at least. Are the boys out?"

"Winston is, with a couple of the guests staying with us," Janine informed her. "One moment." She turned towards the opening in the ceiling, where the pole was installed. " _EGON! YOUR MOTHER IS HERE!_ "

There was the sound of pounding footsteps overhead before Egon's face poked over the hole. "Mom?" he had time to ask, before he had to pull back to allow a pair of fast moving bodies to slid down the pole. A third followed not far behind.

"Grandma!" Harry shouted happily, running to meet the woman with a hug. Evie was just behind him, albite moving a bit more awkwardly.

"Harry! Evanna!" Mrs. Spengler wrapped her arms around the two. "How have you been? Not getting up to too much trouble over in England, I hope?"

"We fought a troll!" Harry informed her perkily.

"My Grandson, the Ghostbuster," she sighed happily, mussing his hair. "Evanna, I have no doubt you were involved?"

"It was a very big troll," Evie allowed.

"We charged for it," Harry added with a grin.

"Never much liked those stuffy British magicals," Mrs. Spengler smiled as they drew away. "How are your classes going?"

"We usually don't go," Harry admitted. "Papa Peter included it in the contract when we first signed on to go to Hogwarts. We can't get in trouble, either."

"Which is useful, because we have Slimer with us," Evie added.

Mrs. Spengler looked delighted. "Oh, so you _did_ bring the spud. I'm sure that's caused a few interesting reactions."

"It's pretty great, yeah," Harry agreed.

"Now, Evanna, how are your Miskatonic studies going?" Mrs. Spengler questioned. "Still doing well?"

"Top of the class," Evie said. "Granted, as a long distance student, I am the only one in the class, but I have been reliably informed I am still wrecking the curve for my fellow daemonology majors."

"That's my girl," Mrs. Spengler said proudly, patting her on the head, causing Evie to make an odd face.

Behind them, Hermione cleared her throat.

Harry jerked. "Oh, right! Grandma, this is a close friend of ours from school, Hermione Granger. She's top of the class in every class Evie isn't going to. No offense, Hermione."

Hermione sighed, though she'd long since accepted she was never going to be able to match up to Evie in terms of raw intelligence. "None taken."

"Hermione, this is our Grandma."

"It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Spengler," Hermione said, offering a hand.

"You too, Hermione," Mrs. Spengler agreed, briefly shaking her hand. "Now, where did my son get off to? He's looking too thin. Is he skipping meals again?"

"In the lab?" Janine asked dryly. "Almost constantly. Sleep, too."

"My son, the doctor," Mrs. Spengler sighed. "Let me hang my coat somewhere, and then the two of us can cook something up for those boys. And you can tell me about all the other necessary things my son is skipping out on."

It was funny how quickly a wicked smile appeared on Janine's face. "Alright, Mrs. Spengler. There are some hooks over here…"

 **HP/RGB**

Because of the very real danger of ghosts breaking into the firehouse (something that had happened more than once before and probably would more than once in the future), the entire building was hooked up to a CCTV system. The system also scanned for ectoplasm, possession, and a variety of other things.

But that wasn't important at the moment, Harry knew. What was important was the the camera had _sound_ , and that he knew the computers in the lab that could hook up to them and display the live feed.

What was _also_ important was Harry was about ninety percent sure that Egon was gearing up to tell his mother about him and Janine.

Now, there were a few places in the firehouse that were, for rather obvious reasons, not hooked up to the camera system. The bathroom, for one, and Janine and Egon's bedroom for another. They still had ectoplasmic sensors and the like, but no actual cameras.

The kitchen was not one of those.

Which made Harry very, very, happy.

He'd recruited Hermione and Janine, and Evie had been in the lab when the three had invaded it, so the end result was four people pouring over the computer, the volume cranked to maximum, and all of them waiting with baited breath for what would no doubt be one of the funniest conversations ever.

Also, Janine was kind of hopeful Egon's mother would tear him a new one for not telling her any of this. Which he _totally deserved._

Harry shushed the desperately trying not to giggle others (except for Evie, who was as stoic as always) as the black and white Egon approached his mother.

" _Mom,_ " he said slowly, clearly unsure how to proceed. " _I have… an announcement_.

" _Oh boy_ ," Mrs. Spengler sighed, turning from the cookie dough she was mixing. " _Nothing good ever comes with that. What did you do now?_ "

" _I have…_ " Egon seemed to struggle to find the words. " _I have entered a relationship_."

" _You're_ dating _?_ " Mrs. Spengler demanded. " _How long? Does Janine know?_ "

Harry had to cover his mouth to smother his snickers.

" _Four months now, and yes, Janine is well aware-_ " Egon began.

" _Oh, this is awful!_ " Mrs. Spenger sighed. " _To think I was trying to encourage her earlier… I feel terrible. Did she take it alright?_ "

Egon took a moment to reflect on how Janine had acted when they'd first gotten together. " _She seemed pleased-_ "

" _Pleased?! Oh, you're no help at all! I'll have to talk to her._ " Mrs. Spengler held a hand to her head. " _Well, that at least explains where your bed went to. I couldn't find it with the other boys'. Where are you staying now?_ "

Egon looked baffled. " _Here, of course. Where else would I go?_ "

Now it was Mrs. Spengler's turn to look confused. " _What?_ "

" _I'm staying in the basement room with Janine_ ," Egon said slowly.

There was a long pause.

" _You're dating Janine, then?_ " Mrs. Spengler clarified.

" _Well, there aren't a lot of dates involved,_ " Egon frowned. " _But we spend a lot of time together and we are in a relationship_."

Mrs. Spengler smiled. " _Well, it's about time! Why in heaven's name didn't you say something before?_ "

" _It never came up_ ," Egon said honestly.

Mrs. Spengler turned back to her cookie dough, muttering something about hopelessly clueless sons as a hopelessly giggling Harry managed to turn off the computer.

"I love Mrs. Spengler," Janine laughed.

"Your grandmother _is_ awesome," Hermione agreed.

"Told you," Harry snickered.

Evie just shook her head at the three of them and returned to her work. Though she may have been smiling. A bit.

 **HP/RGB**

The first night of Yule came.

As night fell, Ray led everyone through a short ceremony, where they left an offering of wine on a small altar Ray had set up not far from the pine tree they'd gotten for both this and Christmas. The small ritual concluded with everyone partaking in wassail Ray had prepared earlier (a non alcoholic version, much to Peter's disappointment), and sitting around chatting. **(13)**

Hermione had been surprised to feel the magic in the air as they'd done it.

"So, that's Yule?" she asked Harry afterwards, as they sat around being warmed by the hot apple drink. "It seems surprisingly low key."

"Oh, that's only the first night," Harry said dismissively, waving a hand.

"Really?" Hermione asked, surprised. Though she'd never studied Yule before.

"Yes, it's a series of twelve nights," Harry agreed. "Some people only celebrate the first, but we try and do something for all of them. It starts on or around the solstice, usually."

"Wow," Hermione commented, wrapping her head around that. "It's… a powerful ceremony."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "It's like that every night."

"That's where the Twelve Days of Christmas come from, then?" Hermione asked.

"Probably," Harry frowned. "I'm not actually sure. Evie might know."

They glanced over, where Evie was sitting alone, a surprisingly contemplative expression on her face.

"Is she okay?" Hermione whispered.

"It's the first Yule celebration she's ever been at," Harry murmured back. "I'm sure she's fine, just thinking about it. I did a lot of that my first time, too."

"So do you celebrate all the Pagan holidays?" Hermione questioned.

"Most of them," Harry allowed. "It seems a good idea in this line of work to avoid pissing off as many potential gods as possible. Plus, I mean, you felt that."

"Yes," Hermione agreed, thinking again of the magic that had hung heavy in the air, washing around all of them. "Yes, I did."

 **HP/RGB**

As it happened, the fifth day of Yule fell on Christmas Eve.

That night, not only did the group go out "wassailing", but they also set out milk and cookies on the alter. When Hermione looked at Harry in surprise, he just shrugged. **(14)**

"It's an odd blend of traditions," he said. "Besides, no matter what we set out, it will be gone in the morning."

"Because Santa will visit?" Hermione asked weakly.

"No, because Slimer will eat it all," Harry answered, as though it were obvious.

In hindsight, it really was.

 **HP/RGB**

Christmas with the Ghostbusters also came with one more tradition that was equal parts fun and hilarious.

No one was quite sure how it had gotten started, but the truth of the matter was that no one could be trusted around the presents. It was human nature to be curious, and every Ghostbuster had a history of trying… unusual methods to discover just what was in the wrapped bags and boxes under the tree. Peter had broken a gift shaking it one year, and Ray had tried to unwrap and rewrap several items. (Harry had also tried this method, much less successfully.) Egon even had an X-Ray machine in the lab he'd dug out for the express purpose of figuring out just what was in the little box from Janine with his name on it.

This had presented a bit of a problem.

Because of their curiosity, there came an odd little game at Christmas, where everyone attempted to hide their presents from everyone else. Then, on Christmas Eve, everyone took the opportunity to sneak downstairs in the middle of the night and put their gifts under the tree. The thing was, if you went late enough, you might get a chance to look at what everyone else had gotten you. Only you didn't want to be caught sneaking around by anyone else. And everyone else knew this as well, turning the whole thing into a massive and complicated game that went just slightly beyond the realm of ridiculous.

But that was also what made it so fun.

It also, they had discovered early on, made it harder for Harry to wake up early, and, more importantly, wake everyone else up early to open presents. Not that it ended up making that large of a difference, with everyone so sleep deprived.

The Grangers, Hermione included, decided not to participate in exchange for a night of actual sleep. Evie did participate… though Harry realized later that with her sleeping on the fold out sofa in the same room as the tree made both delivery and reconnaissance remarkably easy.

Next year, he was _totally_ dosing her with a sleeping potion or something.

For his part, he ended up slipping down into the room a little past midnight, only to find no one else had visited yet. That was disappointing… but the fact that he'd still be getting presents tomorrow made it worth it.

Or later that morning. Whatever.

 **HP/RGB**

"CHRISTMAS!"

Peter let out a yelp as two small knees impacted his stomach painfully. He managed to crack his eyes to see Harry bouncing on him excitedly.

"Christmas-Christmas-Christmas-get-up!" Harry sang happily before rolling off of Peter and moving for the next bed. A second later, Peter heard a grunt of pain, followed by a groan from Winston.

"Say, Harry, why don't you go wake Egon and Janine?" Ray suggested blearily.

"Okay!" Harry agreed cheerfully, running from the room.

The three remaining men let out a sigh of relief and no one moved from their prone positions.

"So, what time is it?" Peter asked.

There was the sound of rustling as Ray checked his alarm clock. "...6:24."

"Oh, that's not too bad," Peter decided, still not moving. "We've seen worse. Haven't we, Winston?"

"Pete, it is taking all my will power not to smash your face in right now," Winston informed him.

"But it's Christmas," Peter reminded. "You can't do that on Christmas. Spirit of the holidays and all that."

Winston mumbled something distinctly unfriendly into his pillow.

"How long do you suppose we have before Harry gets back?" Ray wondered.

"Not long enough," Peter groaned. "One of us is going to have to go make the coffee. Who wants to go make coffee?"

There was a long silence.

"Fine," Ray sighed, pulling himself out of bed. "Lazy bums."

Peter listened to the sound of his footsteps crossing the floor and the squeaking of the door opening. And then:

"Harry? That didn't take long."

"Papa Egon installed a defense system," Harry admitted. "Do you have any idea how to break down a titanium door?"

 **HP/RGB**

Eventually, everyone was awoken.

Hermione and Evie had been easy to wake, and then Hermione was sent to get her parents. Egon and Janine were finally woken up when a jealous and fuming Peter stalked down to their door and began pounding furiously on it, refusing to let up until they'd answered.

After all, if he was going to have to suffer from being up this early, he was damn well going to make sure everyone else was, too.

So it was, well before seven o'clock, everyone had gathered in the den for, as Harry had put it, "The most important part of the entire holiday!"

Mrs. Spengler, well used to Harry's early rising, had shown up around then as well (she was staying at a hotel about ten minutes away), arms laden with gifts.

And then everyone dug in.

Harry was most excited by Mrs. Spengler's gift of a summer of karate lessons ("It's run by the brother of the man who runs my dojo! It's supposed to be very good!"). Somehow, he wasn't surprised to find Evie already had black belt. (Mostly due to her grandmother's insisting. And because she'd lived much closer, she'd been dragged along to the dojo until she'd just started going on her own, which turned out to be much less of a hassle and much more interesting.) **(15)**

Evie had gotten a new frog from Egon. She immediately named the bright green tree frog Charles and declared he would be returning to Hogwarts with her. Harry was quite certain he didn't want to know how she knew instantly it was a boy. Though her extensive collection (apparently currently being looked after by a herpetologist friend of the family who was rather impressed with it) may have had something to do with it.

Hermione had gotten several books (her friends knew her so well!), but none had captured her attention as easily as the book from Ray, " _Coopted Paganism_ ". When she'd first opened it, she'd looked over at him in surprise. He'd just winked in response, as though he'd known exactly what would get her attention. She was soon several pages in. **(16)**

Egon had at first seemed most enthralled with the fungus sample Evie had procured, until he'd opened up the joint gift from Harry and Evie. The jacket on the book read " _The Incredible World of Mold_ ", which made him frown, both because he knew Evie knew he already owned that book and because he could have sworn it was larger than the thin one in his hands. Then he opened it to the title page and almost choked on air: " _The Potter-Spengler Guide to Dating Janine Melnitz_ ".

Unable to really help himself, he turned to the first page.

" _Section 1: Love_

 _So you've noticed Janine acts oddly around you. Congratulations. She's in love with you. It's stunning that it's taken you so long to realize it…_ " **(17)**

The book did not get any less condescending from there, but the sad thing was, it was actually very informative and would probably help him a lot.

He had very mixed feelings on that front.

But he tucked it away with his other gifts and resolved to hide it somewhere in the lab where Janine wouldn't find it, and where he could easily access it.

Slimer had gotten everyone shiny things. The Grangers were very amused when they unwrapped their very shiny quarters. Slimer was a bit like a magpie in that sense.

By the end of the unwrapping, balls of paper had ended up strewn haphazardly about the room, and most of the gathered group were wearing at least one bow. Harry had stuck three of the stick-on bows on his head, which didn't do much for his already wild hair.

Most of the day was spent playing board games and lounging about the firehouse, and they ordered takeout from one of the few places open on Christmas for lunch. For dinner, Ray, Mrs. Spengler, and (to everyone's consternation) Janine worked together to produce a heavy table of food that was enjoyed by all. The night finished with another Yule ceremony before they retired for the night.

Personally, Harry thought it was the best Christmas yet.

 **TA DAH! So, they celebrate the holidays and everyone has fun. Also, meet Charles, Evie's pet tree frog. Tell me you** ** _don't_** **secretly kind of want one. I know I do.**

 **AN:**

 **(1) That's right, folks, it's IDW Peter Venkman! Stuff's about to go down! (Also, Ortiz and Alexander refer to Mel Ortiz, an FBI agent sort of drafted to be a member of the Ghostbusters and Ron Alexander who's a total asshat and deserves all condemnation you want to lay upon him.) He's upstairs because the dimensional doorway in their basement lets out in the bedroom of the RGB folk. (How that works, we have no idea.)**

 **(2) Roger Baugh: English professor and IDW Janine's boyfriend. Not only is he a dead ringer for XGB Egon, his** ** _name_** **happens to have three syllables, starting with R, G, and B. No way anyone's convincing me that was a coincidence.**

 **(3) Evie + Sugar = (censored)**

 **(4) RGB episode "The Collect Call of Cthulhu". The Necronomicon ended up with a Miskatonic professor. (That's right, guys, Miskatonic is RGB cannon!)**

 **(5) Irena is a werewolf from the old RGB comics, and seemed to be in an on/off relationship with Peter. I've kept that in here.**

 **(6) IDW Ghostbusters International. Totally recommend it.**

 **(7) RGB episode "Janine Melnitz, Ghostbuster", and "Ghostbusters: Get Real".**

 **(8) The title is Swedish and roughly translates as "Unusual Fungus".**

 **(9) He's not kidding. This is a thing. Trepanning is a medical practice used today (and in the past, though they didn't always know what they were doing) to reduce bleeding in the brain. Non-medically, it's been theorized it would increase blood flow to the brain and actually raise the IQ sightly. Dan Schoening, the artist of the IDW comics and major Ghostbusters fan, theorizes this is why Egon would try to drill a hole in his head. I agree. Peter Halvorson actually did it, and swears by it, but has also been arrested for doing it to others (though he had their permission, it's not considered a needed medical procedure). So... you can draw your own conclusions here.**

 **(10) The Ghostmaster appeared in the episodes "Short Stuff" and "Revenge of the Ghostmaster". He seems a villain clever enough to pull it off. So let's just dump this all on him.**

 **(11) Denial is a wonderful thing.**

 **(12) Neither Egon nor Ray have ever clarified exactly what experiments they performed with the mood slime. Janine has never asked. I don't want to know... but I will say this: Peter thinks they did, and Winston thinks they didn't.**

 **(13) I don't know a lot about Yule traditions, but from what I did find, this doesn't seem to be too out of line. I elected not to go into detail for fear of screwing it up.**

 **(14) One site I found described the traditions one couple followed every year, and the days of Yule were celebrated from the 20th to the 31st of December. The fifth night of Yule, on the 24th, Christmas Eve, they set out milk and cookies on the alter, which I thought was a perfect blend of traditions... even if they all know it's not going to last the night.**

 **(15) Mrs. Spengler does study karate, as stated in "Ghostworld". She is just that awesome.**

 **(16) "Coopted Paganism" is a book listed in the IDW verse. I found it a perfect gift for a book lover just being introduced to the Pagan religion.**

 **(17) Funny story: I've actually written a large portion of this guide. I'll probably post an incomplete version at some point as a joke. This is not the last you'll see of the PSGDJM.**

 **Okay, lots of notes this time. But it's done! Thanks for reading, and don't forget to review.**

 **Next time: Harry gets one last gift and makes a dangerous friendship.**


	9. Chapter 8

**IT'S A CHAPTER! HOORAY!**

 **You can also sort of thank RyuuTsukiko for this update as they pointed out the very VERY exciting news: THE REAL GHOSTBUSTERS IS ON NETFLIX. That's right, guys, you can now watch the ridiculousness that is the Ghostbusters cartoon on NETFLIX. (Cue moment of dancing joy.)**

 **Anyways, that managed to pull me away from my newest distraction long enough to finish this. So... yay! (By the way, that newest distraction is my very own Nintendo Switch, and a copy of Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, which may have just become my new favorite Zelda game of all time. Three thumbs up. (I don't care that I only have two.)) I'm not sure where I'm going with this, so I'll just say: Enjoy the chapter.**

 **And review. Always review.**

Chapter Eight: In Which Harry Gets One Last Gift and Makes a Dangerous Friendship

The rest of the holidays sped past. Soon enough, they were loading up the Ecto-4 again, heading back to school.

"Are the holidays always this exciting around you?" Hermione asked with a grin as they boarded the plane for the flight back.

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, returning her grin. "They were down right boring, if you ask me."

"I don't think a New Year's poltergeist is boring," Hermione shot back.

Harry grinned more widely as he thought back to their New Year's celebration. Deciding that because the Grangers were all tourists, they had to go watch the ball drop in person, the hours before midnight had been spent partying in Times Square. The night had been going well until a poltergeist had decided to possess the dropping ball, and the guys had decided to take a step back and see how Harry and Evie worked together. (Also, Peter had been pretty tipsy at that point, and all four had unfortunately learned the hard way that drinking and operating a proton thrower was a recipe for disaster.)

Plus, it was only a class four.

The bust was short and one sided and a lot of fun. They had also sort of blown up the New Year's ball, but since it had exploded almost exactly at midnight, there was a lot of cheering as opposed to a lot of jeering. The party had then continued for another couple hours.

"Yeah, okay, not New Year's," Harry agreed.

"And what about the army of possessed gingerbread men that attacked downtown?" Hermione added.

That had also been a wonderful combination of fun and delicious, and because there were so many, everyone had ended up pitching in. Including the Grangers.

This meant that Wendell had gotten to live out one of his secret fantasies, and Monica and Janine had ended up working together to tag team a group of smaller ones that tried smashing the firehouse. The gingerbread men hadn't gotten far, and Monica later claimed it was one of the most exhilarating moments of her life.

Plus, Harry had gotten to ride in the side car of the Ecto-3 **(1)** taking pot shots at anything that looked like a cookie. That automatically made any bust awesome.

"I really didn't know Grandma's aim was that good," Harry reminisced.

(It really was impressive, as she'd hit ninety percent of her shots (better than Harry), especially as she was the one _driving_ the Ecto-3 at the time.)

Hermione shook her head, amused, as they sat down and pulled out one of the books she'd gotten for Christmas. Yes, she was re-reading it at this point, but it was a very good book!

"Cards again?" Evie asked as she sat next to Harry, already pulling out a calculator.

Harry considered it. "Yeah, alright. I'm game. Anyone else in?"

Slimer cheerfully slimed the seat next to them. " _Mwe! Mwe!_ "

Evie passed over a pair of gloves and assisted Slimer in putting them on without covering them in ectoplasm as Harry started shuffling the cards. The adults around them hid smiles as the three settled in for what would no doubt be a fast and furious game.

"You're going down this time, Spengs," Harry declared firmly.

"You wish," Evie retorted, turning to small table they were playing on.

Then the dealing began and the game started.

 **HP/RGB**

"That no-good little slime ball!" Harry ranted as they disembarked to many wide-eyed stares of the British populace at the sight of a fucking _jet_ touching down outside King's Cross. "That _anzillu_ -" **(2)**

"That's rude, Harry," Evie reminded.

"I don't care! I can say whatever I want about him after that little trick!" Harry snarled. "I should blast him!"

Peter's head popped out of the plane. "I'll help!"

"Peter!" Egon and Ray snapped together.

Peter looked only slightly chastised.

At the same time, Evie didn't say a word, but she did turn a very intense stare on to Harry, who wilted under it.

"I know, I know," he grumbled. "Slimer is a very important contribution to science and we're not allowed to blast him. Even if he cheats at cards."

"Well, you shouldn't have been playing for M&Ms, then," Hermione pointed out loftily. "He probably wouldn't have tried it if there weren't food on the line."

"Little…" Harry began again, before shrinking from Evie's glare. "Nevermind."

"Let's get you guys on the train," Winston chuckled, shaking his head as he led the way into King's Cross. "We have an appointment at Madame Tussauds to stop what sounds like a class four repeating vapor."

"Really?" Harry asked, surprised. "After what happened at the Guggenheim?" He paused. "And the Louvre?" Another pause. "And the-"

"Hey, hey, hey, that wasn't our fault!" Peter protested immediately.

"It was sort of our fault," Ray admitted.

"What happened?" Wendell asked.

"Nothing!" Peter said a little too quickly. "Besides, they were able to fix the Mona Lisa, so I don't see what the big deal was-"

"The Louvre didn't see it that way," Egon said dryly. "Or the Guggenheim." He paused. "Or the-"

"I think they get the idea, man," Winston interrupted.

"That was your fault, you know," Ray told Peter as they walked. "I wanted to lead them to the modern art section, but nooo…"

Peter mumbled something uncomplimentary about art snobs under his breath.

Hermione lagged behind the others a bit. She wasn't worried about getting lost, as she knew where they were going, and the end of her book had a very interesting section she wanted to finish. Unfortunately, she wasn't paying much attention to her surroundings as she dropped further and further behind.

"Look out!"

Hermione was shaken from her musings as a hand grabbed the back of her jacket and yanked her out of the way of a fast moving luggage cart that was about to hit her. Hermione gasped as she turned to see her savior.

An average looking professionally dressed woman gave her a tight smile. "Better watch where you read. Exercise your common sense. You'll probably be needing it."

With that cryptic statement, the woman gave her a quick wink with a bright blue eye and strode off.

"Thank you!" Hermione called after her, though there was a questioning note in her voice. She glanced up to where the others had headed before glancing back at the woman, but the woman was already gone.

With a frown, Hermione tucked the book under her arm, resolving to finish it later, and hurried after her friends and family. The woman had been _strange._ And, now that she thought about it, had an American accent, too. But she shoved it out of her mind. There were other things to worry about.

She caught up just in time to hear her mother asking a question.

"So, why doesn't anyone notice people vanishing into the wall here?"

"A good question," Egon approved. "Actually, this whole section of the wall is layered with extensive charms and wards to make it skirt the edges of your perception. Or, in layman's terms, it's hard to notice if you don't have magic. That's why you'll never see anything hanging on the wall, either."

"Not that they could, even if they did notice it," Peter pointed out.

"On the contrary, as long as the barrier between the platforms is closed, there's no reason they couldn't," Evie piped up.

Everyone turned to look at her in surprise.

"What?" she asked. "I made a new runestone over break. It helps me see magicks when I'm touching it." She held up a small stone absolutely filled with complex runic clusters.

Next to her, Egon was nodding. "Evie is right. But it's a moot point, as the charms and wards remain in place even when the barrier is closed."

"Okay, Evie's got her rune stone, but how do _you_ know that, Egon?" Peter demanded.

"Peter, Egon's had special glasses to let him see magicks since we first met him," Ray said with a frown.

Peter paused for a moment. "Really? How do you know that?"

"How do you _not_?" Ray asked, looking honestly baffled.

"I knew this," Winston offered.

"I did too," Harry agreed. "He offered to help make my glasses do that in a few years."

"Where do you think I got the idea for the rune stone?" Evie asked. "I'm not talented enough with the delicate work to try inscribing them on my glasses yet."

"Plus, you might melt them," Harry added with a wicked grin.

"...I do not have any desire to get new glasses," Evie allowed.

"However, with you spending most of your time at Hogwarts, I wouldn't suggest doing it now," Egon added. "The magic from the wards and the amount being used might well blind you."

"Plus, it would be considered cheating in Quidditch," Harry agreed.

"I'm so glad to see you have your priorities straight," Hermione deadpanned as they walked through the wall.

Harry snickered.

 **HP/RGB**

The train ride was uneventful, and before they knew it, they were back at Hogwarts. Though Hermione did have to dissuade Harry from parading through the train, proclaiming "We're back!"

Evie didn't help, partly because she was too amused by watching the situation to break it up, and partly because she was taking notes on her new frog, Charles.

No, seriously, she'd gotten out a notebook and was recording measurements and everything. _Everything_.

But they finally reached the castle and rode up in the horseless carriages, and as Harry put it, "Actually acted like normal students-how _boring!_ "

There was a bit of a feast to welcome them back, but nothing stood out, not until they finally returned to the Ravenclaw dorm. There, Harry found a wrapped gift sitting on his bed.

He considered this for a moment, then glanced around at his dormmate. (Man, he really needed to learn their names one of these days.) "Hey, did any of you guys put this up here?"

They all responded in the negative.

With a frown, Harry picked up the package and headed back into the common room. He stopped at the bottom of the staircase leading to the girl's dorms, and shouted.

" _EVIE! HERMIONE!_ "

There was the sound of pounding footsteps before the two girls reached the bottom of the staircase, Hermione looking worried and Evie looking curious. Charles was clinging to Evie's cheek.

"Harry? What's wrong?" Hermione asked.

Harry held up the package. "Someone left this on my bed. Thoughts?"

"Maybe someone wanted to give you an anonymous present?" Hermione suggested, suddenly looking a lot less worried and a lot more annoyed. "You're supposed to be famous, Harry, it's not exactly a Holmesian deduction."

"I always sucked at those anyways," Harry said sourly. "And if someone wanted to give me a gift anonymously, they could have done it in the normal wizarding way-by owl."

Evie dug in her pouch for her magic sight runestone. "Well, there's not a curse on it or anything. ...In fact, it doesn't seem to have anything magical at all."

Harry weighed the package in his hand thoughtfully. "And it does feel like a piece of clothing." He felt it over. "I'm thinking… maybe a pj set? It's too big to be just a shirt and not bulky enough to be pants." He ran his hands over it, getting a better feel. "No, wait. It's… a blanket? No, still too thin. It feels almost like a cloak, but it's too light and thin to be of any real use if it is. Maybe a summer cloak, but then why would I be getting it at Christmas…?"

"Definitely no good at Holmesian deductions," Hermione said dryly.

"Just very good at guessing presents," Harry countered, before finally opening the gift and pulling out the silvery material within. "Ah ha! Cloak, I was right!"

Evie's mouth had fallen open though, even as Harry swung it around his shoulders to try it on.

"So, how do I look?"

" _Damkianna_ ," Evie whispered, tracing a runic ward against evil on her chest.

Harry blinked. "What?" He looked down. " _Anpa!_ " His body had vanished.

"It's an invisibility cloak!" Hermione whispered excitedly as Harry pulled it off. She dived down to pick up a card that had fallen from the folds. " _Your father left this in my possession before he died. It's time it was returned to you. Use it well._ "

"No name?" Harry asked, already folding the cloak back up.

"Nothing," Hermione agreed, passing the card to Harry.

"Harry, I think we should send that cloak home immediately," Evie said, still staring wide eyed at it, an almost panicked look in her eyes.

Harry looked up in surprise. "What? Why?"

"Invisibility cloaks can be seen by people with magic sight runestones," Evie explained. "It's one of the advantages to having one. It should project a slight aura around every cloak. But I can't see it on this one."

Harry looked down at the cloak, uncomprehending.

"Harry, there's a legend of one cloak that wouldn't have an aura. A cloak that didn't get its magic from spells or the material. The only cloak that could be passed down through a family without wearing out. The _Mortem Amictus_."

Harry stared at her for a moment. "...I got death from that, and that's about it."

Evie closed her eyes for a moment to collect herself. "There's a legend that, centuries ago, Death gave three powerful items to a trio of brothers. Whoever collects all three supposedly becomes the Master of Death. I don't know how true it is, but the fact that there is cloak suggests there's at least some basis in fact."

She picked up the cloak. "This appears to be the third item, _Mortem Amictus,_ or _Death's Cloak_. The other two are the _Mortem Lapis_ , or _Death's Stone_ , and the _Mortem Lituus_ , or _Death's Stave_. It could be a wand. The translation is a little fuzzy. Together, they make up _Mortem Munera_ , roughly meaning _Death's Gifts_. There's an old wizarding children's tale about it as well, and I believe they are colloquially known as the 'Deathly Hallows'. I… I would suggest sending this to Uncle Egon and Uncle Ray to analyze."

Harry grimaced, but if there was any truth in her words, he couldn't not do it. "Alright, that's probably a good idea."

"A children's story?" Hermione asked, a little confused. "You're getting rid of it because of a children's story?"

"No, we're getting rid of it because of an ancient legend this might just prove as fact," Evie corrected.

"A legend, then?" Hermione asked dubiously.

"We deal with a lot of legends," Harry pointed out. "Besides, last year would you have thought a cerberus could exist outside of a legend?"

"...Okay, good point," Hermione agreed, making a mental note to not dismiss anything out of hand just because it was a legend.

"And maybe we're wrong, but Papa Ray and Papa Egon will be better able to tell than us," Harry added. "Maybe they can find who it's from, too."

"I'll find Slimer," Evie volunteered, passing Harry the cloak again and heading for the door. "He's probably down in the kitchen, anyways. You can write the letter telling them what's going on. If we're lucky, they won't have left the country yet."

"Yeah, Papa Ray's always wanted an excuse to visit the Tower of London," Harry agreed. "I wonder if the security will confiscate their PKE meters."

Evie snorted. "I'd like to see them _try_."

 **HP/RGB**

"You know, Harry, it's funny," Hermione commented the next morning, at breakfast. "When we were at your… well, the firehouse, all your dads cooked except for Egon. I was wondering if there was a reason for that."

Evie glanced up at that. "Actually, I was wondering that as well. From what I recall, Uncle Egon is an excellent chef."

"Yeah…" Harry slowly agreed. "It's not so much that he can't cook as it is he's not allowed to."

"Why?" Hermione asked.

"Because one time when he cooked, my other dads made the mistake of asking what it was made out of," Harry said, looking a little ill at the thought of it. "Unfortunately, well his cooking is good, his… um… choice of ingredients is not… well…"

"So he was using some sort of weird fungus?" Hermione asked.

"I _wish_ that was the problem," Harry informed her. "I really really _wish_ that was it." **(3)**

Hermione and Evie exchanged a glance.

"Anyways, long story short, Egon is not allowed to cook ever again, not without strict supervision," Harry finished with a shrug. He glanced down at the rest of his breakfast. "...And I don't think I'm hungry anymore."

Evie frowned, and looked ready to venture a guess (something probably not far off and something that would _definitely_ ruin Hermione's appetite), but was interrupted by owls squawking overhead. It took only a moment to find the cause of their alarm, as Slimer swooped in a second later, an envelope in his hand.

He quickly zeroed in on the three. Harry was the only one with the presence of mind to duck under the table as they were practically dive bombed by the ghost, leaving both thoroughly slimed.

"...You know, suddenly I'm not hungry either," Hermione said weakly, looking at her plate, which had also been splattered with ectoplasm.

"Thank you, Slimer," Evie said dryly, taking the letter. "Harry's hiding under the table."

Slimer made a happy noise as he passed underneath. " _HAWWY!_ "

"Euagh!"

Hermione couldn't keep a grin off her face as Harry, now liberally drenched with ectoplasm crawled out from under the table. "Thanks, Evie. You're a real pal. One of these days I'm going to find your snack cake stash, and I'm going to feed the whole thing to him."

"I don't have a snack cake stash," Evie denied immediately. "And even if I did, you'd never find it."

"What's in the letter?" Hermione asked, as Evie wiped her hands on the tablecloth to get them clean enough to open it.

"Just a message that we were right about the… ah… item. They're going to run a few tests to make sure it's safe to use. If it is, we'll probably get it back."

"What kind of tests?" Harry asked dubiously. "And are we even going to want it back afterwards?"

"I'm not entirely sure and I'd assume so," Evie frowned. "Why?"

"You didn't see what they did to the microwave," Harry groaned.

"But you didn't have any problems with the toaster," Evie pointed out.

Harry paused at that. "Actually, no, I don't. That… probably says something right there."

"What's wrong with the toaster?" Hermione asked.

"There's a bit of an energy saver… _installed_ in it," Harry said slowly.

"Let's just say that if you play the right tunes, you don't need electricity to toast the bread," Evie added. **(4)**

"Oh." Hermione pushed her plate away. "Well, I'm done. How about you two? If we hurry, we have time to get a shower in before class."

"Class?" Harry asked. "Isn't that the thing you sit in to learn things?"

"I hate you and I'm going now," Hermione decided, turning around and making as dignified an exit as she could when splattered with slime.

"Hey, Slimer, you can eat Hermione's breakfast. And mine, too," Harry added as almost an afterthought.

He wasn't sure why he'd bothered. The spud had been eyeing the plates, and probably would have eaten them anyways if given a few more minutes of contemplation.

 **HP/RGB**

In hindsight, perhaps it had been a mistake to go looking for another abandoned classroom that would suffice to test the new broom mounted proton cannon. It wasn't so much that they didn't need to find a location (no, they definitely needed that, and it wouldn't be a good idea to just test it in Evie's lab) as it was what they found instead.

Evie had several specific characteristics she was looking for in a testing room, and, unfortunately, most of the rooms didn't live up to her standards. It wasn't even that they were high standards, but it was hard to find a room that was large and well ventilated in an old castle. Frankly, they'd gotten lucky with the lab.

It was while they were wandering in search of the room that they came across one that, while it otherwise would live up to Evie's specifications, was unfortunately in use.

By a pair of redheads clearly in the middle of brewing an experimental potion. Harry and Evie (as Hermione was currently in Charms) could immediately tell because the two had set up a line of cauldrons, all with slightly different potions simmering within, a thing Evie had become well acquainted with in her studies and Harry had seen Ray doing a few times previously.

It was also immediately apparent that neither had set up the correct safety precautions when brewing experimental potions.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Evie nearly shrieked, shoving further into the room, startling the two boys who looked about thirteen or fourteen, and were completely identical.

"Hang on, what do you think you're doing?" one demanded.

"Yeah, you can't just barge in here!" the other agreed.

"This is completely unsafe!" Harry cried, following Evie closely.

"Well, we know mixing experimental potions is never completely safe…" the first twin began.

"Forget that!" Evie snapped. "We don't care about that. It's the complete lack of safety precautions you have here!"

"You can't go mixing potion variations without a basic protective ward around them," Harry agreed. "They'll contaminate each other, and then look where you'd be!"

"Completely defeating the purpose of having variations and rendering your experiment useless," Evie finished. "Harry, help me get a ward up around these."

"Ward?" the twins chorused.

"I'd say we should write another letter to the ACM," Harry commented as he kneeled down next to the cauldrons. Thanks to Ray, he could carve the runes for this particular ward in his sleep. It was one of only a few he knew so well. "Tell them Snape's actively encouraging a dangerous environment like this."

"I'll think about it," Evie decided. "I think he's still in trouble from their last enquiry."

Harry grinned at that.

"What's the ACM?" one of the twins asked.

"American Council of Magic," Harry explained shortly. "Though I understand there's a group that wants them to change the name to the American Council for Magical Entities."

"I still don't understand why that's supposed to be funny," Evie mumbled as she activated a ward around the first cauldron and moved to the second.

"That's because you're boring." **(5)**

"I'd say we're not boring, though," one of the twins commented.

"Yeah, and we don't get it either," the other agreed.

"That's because you're British Magicals and therefore ignorant of everything to do with the modern era," Harry explained, as though it were obvious. "And no, I don't feel like explaining that right now."

"That's because you're boring," Evie returned.

"Not true!" Harry claimed immediately. "I am the very epitome of non-boringness! None can stand up to my sheer lack of bor-ousity!"

"...I'm not even going to dignify that with a response," Evie decided as she finished etching the last ward and stepped back. "What exactly were you hoping to achieve with these potions, anyways? I recognize the color changing base, but…"

"We're trying to change the amount of time it lasts," one of the twins explained.

"The hope is that we can use it change the color of people's hair…" the other added.

"...But right now it's only lasting an hour, and we want it to last through an entire feast," the first finished.

"Then why not use a runic variant?" Evie asked, looking slightly baffled.

The two exchanged glances before chorusing, "A what?"

"I'm adding that to the list of things we're complaining about that Snape doesn't teach," Harry said sourly. "I mean, even _I_ know that."

"A runic variant," Evie repeated, slipping into lecture mode. "Potions is inherently a ritualistic based magic, because it must be made the exact same way every time, and you must put in just the right amount of ingredients, and-"

"They don't care about that," Harry broke in. "Get to the point."

"Yes, right," Evie agreed quickly. "The point is, because potions are inherently ritualistic in nature, you can alter them the same way you could alter any other ritual, and the easiest way to do this is with runes."

"What Evie's dancing around," Harry said, shooting her a glare, "is that brewing a potion in a runic circle can change the effects of the potion. The inherent nature of the potion can't be changed, but you can alter things like the length of the effect, like you're trying to do with your experimentation."

"Do you think you can show us?" one of the twins asked.

"We're pranksters," the second explained, "and we want to open up our own joke shop some day."

"We have some great ideas, but some of them we can't quite get to work," the first continued.

"If you could show us those rune things…"

"We might finally be able to fix the problems!"

Harry rubbed his chin and glanced at Evie. "...Pranksters?"

"I'm not sure I have time to take on another pair of rune students," Evie frowned. "But I happen to know you have a lot of free time."

"But I'm not as good at runes as you are," Harry argued.

"You don't have to be," Evie countered. "You just have to teach them the basics for now, and as they improve, maybe I'll have more time to assist as well."

"...Okay, point," Harry agreed. "Fine. I'll teach you," he told the twins. "But you need to do something for us, first."

"Name it," the first said.

"We need a big abandoned classroom with good ventilation hopefully on one of the higher floors for Evie to test possibly explosive things in," Harry explained.

"Is that all?" one twin asked.

"Hell, you can just use ours," the second agreed. "It's just down the hall."

And that was how Harry began teaching the Weasley twins runes. Elsewhere, every single teacher in the castle (and Filch) simultaneously shivered.

And, about twenty minutes later, Evie blew up both the broom and the prototype cannon. It also blew the windows of the testing room out.

Yeah, this room would do quite well for testing.

 **HP/RGB**

The Weasley twins were brilliant, Harry decided. Sure, they were held back a bit by their unfortunate upbringing, but they were young enough that could be corrected and incredibly innovative.

"You know, I think they might actually have the potential to master runic casting," he told Evie one day.

"What makes you say that?" Evie asked.

Harry shrugged. It wasn't exactly something he could verbalize, but the people who ended up becoming runic masters had a certain… _madness_ to them. Most people wouldn't be able to compare Evie and the twins and find any similarities, but Harry knew Evie far too well to _not_.

Runic masters were by far the most rare of casters. Runes were a difficult subject, both because of the time consuming nature of learning them, and their versatility and use in conjunction with so many other types of casting. A person who was a runic caster could learn the runes, yes, and a good one could be very, very good at it. But a master surpassed that. To a runic master, runes were like a second language, and they learned it so well, it became second nature. Within minutes, they could devise a completely new complex runic cluster to do nearly anything needed.

Some of them even created their own runes from scratch, making a completely different language that would work for no one else. Ward built from these runes because nigh impossible to crack.

(It also said a lot that Harry was half certain Evie was developing one of these for herself, but from the few glimpses he'd gleaned, it was still in the early stages.)

Harry was all but positive Evie would eventually become a runic master, if she wasn't already. (He wasn't quite sure where she currently fell on the scale of learning.) She had the mind for it, the drive to get there, and the innovation necessary to create the things a master would have to.

The twins had a similar drive.

"You've only been teaching them for a couple weeks," Evie reminded. "I doubt they've gotten the basics so quickly."

"No, they haven't," Harry agreed. "But they're learning quickly."

Evie "hm"ed. "They have a bit of a reputation, you know."

"I'm not sure how much of that is real and how much is them helping it along," Harry admitted. "I mean, yes, they're troublemakers, but they're really incredibly intelligent."

"I've been aware of _that_ since we found them experimenting with potions," Evie pointed out.

"Then what were you talking about?" Harry asked, confused.

"I wasn't referring to anything. I was just making an observation." Evie turned from the board she was writing on. It was almost filled, anyways. "It's hardly the first time we've come across someone downplaying their intelligence."

Very true. In fact, because of his flippant manner and general cynicism, people frequently forgot that Peter Venkman had not one, but _two_ Ph.D.s. And despite the way the others frequently teased him about it, he had worked hard and long to earn them both (while simultaneously remaining the uncontested beer pong champion of his fraternity and the pranking master of the campus).

(Harry hid a smile at the thought of one of Peter's more amusing tales, when he'd run his own underwear up the flagpole… while still wearing them… and earned himself a place of eternal honor in the fraternity annals.) **(6)**

"I know," Harry said, frowning. "But what does that have to do with anything?"

Evie blinked in confusion. "...You brought it up."

"That's not what I…" Harry trailed off, deciding that perhaps this was one battle to just let go. "...Nevermind."

"Regardless, I don't have time to teach the twins right now," Evie continued, like she hadn't been stopped. "I barely have time to teach Hermione as it is. I'm afraid you're stuck with your students."

"Also not what I was going for." Some days it was easier to talk to Evie than others. "But on that note, you have time for that?" He gestured at the math filled board behind him.

"These are the equations to refine the PKE meter to better detect the horcruxes," Evie rebutted. "I think I'm close to figuring it out."

Harry stared open mouthed at the equations. "...You need that much math?"

Evie raised an eyebrow. "There's a significant amount of interference in this castle," she pointed out. "I doubt we'd have this much trouble in a place like New York." She paused. "Well, maybe some parts. Besides, this is only part of it. Most of it's already in the computer."

"...Don't want to know," Harry decided.

"It really is quite fascinating," Evie mused, turning back to the board. "I think I have something off in the measures of the-"

"Ack! No! Math!" Harry flailed his arms. "Getting… weaker…! Can't…!"

He mock collapsed.

"You are an embarrassment of a scientist," Evie informed him, no real malice in her tone.

"Thank you, Evie," Harry said, words dripping with sarcasm. He didn't move from his prone position. "You're a real comfort."

"...I try."

 **HP/RGB**

In the coming weeks, the Hogwarts Staff would come to rue the day Harry Potter teamed up with the Weasley twins. And it wasn't for anything they could pin on him, either, because he kept his hands clean, even if he _did_ manage to avoid pretty much every prank tried.

The thing was, it was not because of the runes he was teaching them. That had nothing to do with it. Harry wasn't even certain the teacher knew he was doing that.

No, they detested the fact that Harry Potter had actually had the gall to introduce something new, something _awful_ into the twins' repertoire. Something that was often called the most disgusting substance known to man.

Harry had shown them ectoplasm.

The twins had become fast friends with Slimer, Harry's default source of the gooey material, and had quickly learned how to bribe the small ghost to assist them. Apparently, dung bombs were much improved when someone loaded them with slime, which would absorb the scent and stick to anything close when it went off explosively.

It was the kind of thing Peter would hate. Which, of course, meant that Harry had to have a few of his own. (And by "few" he meant "couple dozen". He was already planning to booby trap his dad's bed.)

It also, as it turned out, was the kind of thing that the staff would hate. As well as a large portion of the students. Unfortunately, there was no proof it was Harry who'd shown the twins how to do it, and he was pretty much unpunishable, anyways.

And if Snape seemed to be slimed an inordinate amount of times, both by the improved dungbombs and Slimer's occasional forays through the dungeons, well, that was entirely coincidence.

Entirely.

Though, Slimer had always had a talent for picking up on the people who least wanted to be slimed and almost targeting them. Certainly targeting their living space. Harry'd heard rumors from the house elves that they were working overtime trying to keep Snape's bed clean (and it wasn't always successful). Apparently it had been designated as Slimer's new favorite nap place.

Even Peeves was being tempted by the new reign of mischief taking over the castle, his natural curiosity and love of pranks overtaking his fear to get near any ghostbusters. Harry had seen him hanging around the twins workshop, and the poltergeist had stopped frantically running every time he caught sight of Harry.

Harry was relatively certain that was a good thing. You know, probably.

 **HP/RGB**

"Harry, I need a favor."

Harry glanced up from his notes, a half planned runic circle that would alter the timing of a potion the twins were working on as well as making it nigh-undetectable. "What? You want a favor from me?"

His surprise was understandable. It was usually he who requested favors from Evie, and very, _very_ rarely did it ever go the other way around.

"To clarify," Evie said, holding a finger up, "I need a favor to see if I have successfully completed a favor for you."

Ah. Well, that was more familiar territory.

"Sure," Harry said, realizing that Evie probably wouldn't have him doing anything stupid, or dangerous, or stupidly dangerous. (Not that that was necessarily a turn-off.) "What do you need?"

"I believe I have succeeded in creating a working prototype of our broomstick mounted proton cannon," Evie explained. "I tested it this morning."

"Well, I didn't hear an explosion," Harry allowed, which was probably a good sign. "It worked, then?"

"I have successfully countered both the periodic total failures as well as the kick back from the proton streams," Evie reported. "Hermione assisted in the testing, but there remains one aspect of the testing we believe is best left to you."

"What?" Harry asked, now completely on board.

"Though the problems are fixed, it is still uncertain whether the broom can adequately perform in a normal situation," Evie said. "Hermione and I would like you to take it out to the Quidditch pitch and… 'put it through its paces', I believe is the colloquial."

"What, now?" Harry questioned, more surprised by the speed, but actually quite excited at the prospect.

"Well, Hermione is likely still assembling the testing apparatus, but…" Evie cut off as Harry gave her a "look". "Yes, we'd like you to come now."

Harry glanced at his notes before shoving them into his bag. Much as he liked the twins, ghostbusting was always going to come first. Always.

And flying a broom with a mounted proton cannon. Because that was just the coolest thing in the history of ever.

 **HP/RGB**

Hermione had indeed set up testing equipment, gathering stares from the few students brave enough to venture out into the cold afternoon. The first-generation magicals would recognize some of the pieces as radar guns and video cameras, but much was unfamiliar even to them.

To be completely honest, even Hermione was baffled by a few of the devices, but she knew that they would gather something important for Evie and decided that in this case, it was probably better not to ask. The was her policy on a lot of things that concerned Evie, actually, a policy she knew Harry frequently adhered to as well.

Evie and Harry appeared just as she was getting the final recorders into place. She took a seat in front of the computer that they were all connected to as Evie led Harry to the center of the pitch.

"The prototype should handle much like a normal broomstick," she explained, finally handing an excited Harry the broom. It looked thicker than a normal broom, and the shaft and bristles seemed to be made of metal as opposed to wood, but other than that it looked every inch a typical broom. "Or, it will until you twist this bit at the front, here."

Evie twisted the end of the broomstick, and the shaft began to glow slightly. The end of it morphed into something resembling more of a barrel, and a small black button popped out of the side.

"This puts it into firing mode, which makes it a lot harder to move. That should counter the kickback, but you have to be careful about engaging it. Otherwise you're liable to find yourself, quite literally, flying off the handle." She gave a sardonic grin. "Pressing this button fires a basic but strong proton stream."

" _Awesome_ ," Harry enthused.

A crowd had started to gather in the stands, eager to see whatever was happening. Some people had obviously gone to fetch their friends. Even a few teachers had shown up.

"Basic safety precautions for testing potentially dangerous items will be employed," Evie said firmly, passing Harry a helmet with a built in headset. "We'll monitor you from here and you are to obey our instructions at all times, got it?"

"Not my first rodeo," Harry said, rolling his eyes as he mounted the broom. Evie jogged over to sit next to Hermione, where she put on a headset of her own.

"Spengler to Potter. Radio check."

" _Drop the formalities, Spengs, and get me off the ground!_ "

Hermione rolled her eyes and flipped on the last of the equipment as Evie addressed Harry. "Not a chance, Potter. It's protocol. Rise to a hover, four feet off the ground."

Ahead of her, Harry did so.

"Same readings as we got inside," Hermione reported, reading over the numbers on screen. "Looks stable."

"Good," Evie said. "Potter, rise to ten feet and circle the pitch three times at a _reasonable_ speed."

As Harry complied, Evie couldn't get rid of her grin. "I think I'm going to call it the Ecto-6," she confided to Hermione.

"Well, I know the Ecto-1 and Ecto-4, but the others…?" Hermione asked.

"Ecto-2 is a gyrocopter," Evie explained. "I know I've told you about it before. And the Ecto-3 is the motorized unicycle and sidecar Grandmother was driving around during the cookie incident over break."

Hermione grinned at the memory as Evie continued.

"The Ecto-5 is a motorcycle, though we don't use it much, and Ecto-8 is a boat. We keep it in the same warehouse we keep the Ecto-4 in."

Hermione looked confused. "But why is the boat called Ecto-8 if there's no Ecto-6 or 7? Prior to now, I mean."

"As I understand it, there was originally supposed to be," Evie said with a frown. "They were working on all three at the same time. Only the Ecto-6, which was a repurposed cherry picking machine ended up getting called the Ecto-Crane (and I think it's only been used the one time so far to catch a class 2 inside Miss Fiorino's Linguini), and the Ecto-7, which was an old bomber aircraft, ended up just being called the Ecto-Bomber (It doesn't get much use either, mostly because the Ecto-4 is faster and the Ecto-2 more versatile, but it's great back-up). The Ecto-8 was the only one to keep the original name." **(7)**

"So, the new Ecto-6?" Hermione mused. "I think it fits."

"So do I," Evie agreed. "I've told Uncle Egon my plans for the name, and he's okayed it. He's working on another potential Ecto-7 right now, which is an RV with a built in mini-containment unit. I'm quite excited to see the plans for that one."

"Road trip?" Hermione asked.

"Definitely. Transporting traps isn't always the safest way to go about things." Evie reached up to press the button on the side of her headset to broadcast her voice to Harry. "Increase speed now up to maximum. But _gradually_. And continue to only make steady circles."

Harry responded with a raspberry, but did as ordered.

"Harry's not going to be able to fly that most of this summer," Hermione realized.

"Hence the desire for a road trip," Evie admitted. "I think I'll give him this one for his birthday."

"You're going on the road trip too?" Hermione asked. "What about your parents?"

"They will be in Siberia," Evie said shortly, clearly having little desire to talk about it. "I'll be staying with my uncles."

Hermione bit her lip. "Evie…"

"They are making important contributions to science," Evie said, her tone suggesting she'd speak no more on the subject.

Hermione frowned, but didn't say anything else as Evie contacted Harry again. "Alright, Potter, up and down now. Nothing too crazy yet. We'll work up to it."

" _Fine, but this is_ boring _, Spengs._ "

"I'm sure you'll survive," Evie said dryly.

Hermione suddenly gripped Evie's arm. "Evie! The read-out…!"

Evie's eyes flicked from Harry's form back to the computer screen, taking in the rapidly changing numbers around the section monitoring the broom's steering. "Harry, land! Now!"

But the broom was already jerking, shaking out of Harry's control, and a moment later, went plummeting towards the ground.

 **AN: Oh my God, my first cliffhanger! (I mean, real cliffhanger. Sort of. I probably won't do too many of them. (Probably.))**

 **Also, a bit more insight to Evie's relationship with her parents. She... won't be talking about them much. They don't have a bad relationship, per say, but it's pretty clear it's a pretty hands off one. It's not likely we'll meet them. Uh... and I think that's all I have to say on the subject.**

 **Notes!:**

 **(1) A motorized unicycle with a sidecar. The sidecar seems to be made for Slimer, though I believe others have used it. It collapses to fit in a compartment on one of the wheels of the Ecto-1. An eleven year old Harry could ride in the sidecar with no issues.**

 **(2) Sumerian for "abomination". Clearly, Harry is not in a forgiving mood.**

 **(3) Two words: sweat sandwich. In "The Joke's on Ray", Egon made sandwiches that were really good... only they were apparently made out of "a basic blend of chemical components that precisely duplicates the vitamins and minerals lost through epidermal elimination". Ray has to translate for the others... but yeah, they're made of synthetic sweat. ...There are not words.**

 **(4) It also dances. Yay for energy saving psychomagnetheric slime!**

 **(5) And if you don't know why ACME is funny, you're boring too.**

 **(6) RGB episode "That Old College Spirit" references this. Peter's kind of famous in the fraternity.**

 **(7) To be honest, I didn't know all this until I looked up all the ecto vehicles on Ghostbusters wiki. The Ecto Bomber is used in one episode, and the Ecto Crane is never used... though it is at one point seen parked outside the firehouse (the Ecto Crane isn't even an official name), so we know it exists. The Marine Ecto 8 is from the video game, and it always seemed odd to me that there was an Ecto 8, but no Ecto 5-7. Apparently, though, there is an Ecto 5, seen most notably in the IDW comics, and if you consider that at one point the Bomber and Crane were** ** _going_** **to be called Ecto 6 and 7, things make a lot more sense. (The new "Ecto 7" Evie mentions Egon is working on is based off the IDW Mobile Containment Unit, which is basically an RV with a smaller containment unit built in.) Yay for ridiculously overthinking things!**

 **And that's it for the notes this time! (Fewer, but that's not a bad thing. I did get a complaint before, but... I don't go out of my way to give an ungodly number of notes. Really. It just happens.)**

 **Thanks for reading, and don't forget to review!**

 **Next time: A murder plot is discovered and Harry explores a forest.**


	10. Chapter 9

**Wow. So, I was expecting to finish this way sooner than I actually did, but I hit a truly massive case of writer's block, and then had to write something else, and there was another fandom, and, well... never mind. My point is, I'm back, with conclusion of that awful cliff hanger! (Which I actually feel kind of bad about. Sorry.)**

 **On a lighter note, I just recently posted a new RGB fic called "Citizen Human" that sort of creeps me out. Little bit dark, but plenty of snappy dialogue because it's the** ** _Ghostbusters_** **and if you're interested, you should check it out.**

 **In other news, I can highly recommend IDW's newest Ghostbusters series, Ghostbusters 101, involving both the IDW guys and the Answer the Call gals. (And, in two very amusing panels, the RGB Peter and Egon. They discuss Peter's missing cheese. Slimer did not take it.) Don't want to spoil anything, but the whole thing is absolutely frigging hilarious and I don't think I've ever laughed so hard as when Egon comes down the stairs with Kevin and tells the girls, "I'm going to assume you're who this one belongs to." And Kevin just seems happy to be there.**

 **(But back to the story.)**

 **Anyways, enjoy the chapter! Please read and review!**

 _Chapter Nine: In Which a Murder Plot is Discovered and Harry Explores a Forest_

"Harry!"

Harry wrestled for control of the modified broom, completely shocked. Only a second ago it had been performing perfectly, perhaps only a tad bit off from the current top of the line brooms. But something had changed. He was no longer in control.

The broom plummeted downwards, clearly panicking Evie, Hermione, and most of the watching crowd. Harry yanked the handle upwards, and only a second later, it was again spiralling into the sky.

Harry chanced a glance down at the girls. Hermione was running towards him, already removing her wand from her holster. Evie, ever the pragmatic one, had first twisted one of the cameras to scan the gathered crowd, then sat down and focused on the readouts.

" _Harry, I need you to describe what's going on for me_ ," she said seriously.

"This… _ezeru_ … broom…" Harry growled, holding on tightly. "Stupid thing's… bucking. Trying to… throw me off."

" _It's not my work, it's an outside force,_ " Evie told him. " _Someone's cursing the broom._ "

"Then _find_ the _awil kispu_ , and _BREAK HIS FACE!_ " Harry snarled. "This is worse than the time I was riding that possessed bull- fuck!" **(1)**

The broom flipped over, before shaking him again.

"Much… worse!" he grunted, clinging on for dear life.

He didn't know how long he hung there. It felt like an eternity. It may have only been a few minutes. Time lost meaning.

And then a very welcome voice shouted up from below.

" _Nusku Palasu Aksu Kispu!_ " **(2)**

Harry breathed a sigh of relief as Evie's spell shattered the curse holding the broom, and he regained control. Immediately, he turned right side up before heading in to land.

"Harry!" Hermione shouted, practically bowling him over with the force of her hug as he touched down.

"Careful, Hermione, this broom still has an unlicensed nuclear accelerator on it," he warned jokingly. Truthfully, it would take a lot more damage than that to cause any real problems. It had to be designed to fight a demon, after all.

Hermione jerked back and punched him in the shoulder. "You prat! I was worried!"

Harry looked over to where Evie had returned to the computer screen, scowling at the readings. "Evie said someone was cursing the broom."

"We don't know who," Hermione said immediately. "But there's no way a student could have done it. Not without it being immediately obvious."

"Probably a ritualistic chant," Harry mused darkly. "We'll know more when Evie finishes her scans."

"Harry, who ever did it was trying to kill you," Hermione warned.

Harry nodded solemnly. "I know. It's not the first time some being's had it out for me. First time it's a human, though. Well, except for that brief stint when the ghosts dried up and my dads ended up busting criminals… until _that_ dried up-" **(3)**

"This isn't a joke!" Hermione snapped. "You could have been seriously hurt! Or killed! Or-!"

"Hermione." Harry had dropped the broom to catch both of her arms. "Do I look like I'm joking?"

Hermione took a moment to process the serious expression on his face. It was rare to see, but she knew suddenly he was very serious about this. Deadly serious. Slowly, she shook her head.

"I'm not going to panic about this," Harry said firmly. "I'm not going to let it upset my life. Yes, someone wants me dead, but it's hardly the first time, and who ever it is isn't going to succeed. I will take precautions. I will keep an eye out. We will figure this out, together."

"This is a _school_ , though," Hermione nearly whimpered. She seemed to be on the verge of tears. "It's supposed to be safe."

"There's also a cerberus on the third floor," Harry reminded her, raising an eyebrow. "And it's a magic school. Magic is sort of, like, inherently dangerous."

"That may be the most insightful thing I've ever heard you say."

Hermione wheeled about, ready to snap at Evie, when she realized that though her expression was carefully schooled, Evie's eyes still held a great deal of worry.

"Come on, Evie, I'm sure you've heard me say more impressive shit than that," Harry proclaimed loudly. "I mean, really, that's not even that insightful. Well, maybe when compared to British Magical Society-"

Hermione was ready to snap at him as well when she realized he was _acting_. He was deflecting his discomfort through humor, and probably helping Evie as well, by giving her something familiar to latch on to until they could both process this.

"I do believe the fact that it wasn't particularly insightful was precisely my point-" was as far as Evie got before the excitable students that had been watching surrounded them and all real conversation was put on hold until later.

 **HP/RGB**

Evie burst into the Ravenclaw boys' dormitory, ignoring the few shouts from the boys in the room. She made a bee-line for Harry's bed, grabbed the hangings, and tossed them to the side.

"Hey!" Harry yelped, looking up from his current video chat with Winston and Ray. He had a book on complex mechanics laying next to him, as well as a notebook half full with diagrams. "I thought I told you… Evie?"

"I need to use our computer to speak with Uncle Egon," Evie said shortly.

"Couldn't it have waited?" Harry demanded, slamming the book closed and shoving both it and the notebook under a pillow. "And did you have to come up here?"

"It'd be better to do it sooner," Evie explained. "I've finished the equations to filter the excess PKE energy of the castle out of the readings, so we can get a better fix on those…" She suddenly seemed to register that there were other people in the room. "...those possessed items we were trying to locate."

"Fine," Harry sighed, handing her the computer. "But seriously, some warning next time would be nice."

"If this is about your work, I already knew you were smarter than you typically act," Evie informed him, taking the computer. "I know you prefer to be underestimated, and so have not said anything on the subject."

Harry glared at her for a moment. "I don't know what you're talking about. It's because next time you come barging in, you might find one of us… in a state of undress."

Evie blinked. "...I fail to understand the problem. Don't males and females typically desire to see the other in various states of undress?"

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. "I am not even going to attempt to tackle that one right now. We'll discuss it later. Next time, ask Hermione for help to come up here."

"Alright," Evie agreed easily.

"And get out of here!" Harry hissed.

Still slightly confused, Evie headed for the stairs, still holding the computer.

Onscreen, Winston glanced to Ray. "I think we're going to have to check to see if Egon has the same issues with nudity Evie does."

"He doesn't," Ray said. "He's basically the exact opposite."

"Good to know," Winston decided.

"If the two of you have finished discussing my latest deficiency," Evie broke in, "perhaps you could get my Uncle Egon?"

The two exchanged a glance.

"Er… that might be a little difficult," Ray admitted.

"How so?" Evie asked.

"There was an… incident," Winston admitted.

"...What kind of incident?" Evie asked warily.

"We think Egon's accidentally somehow swapped brains with the Egon of an alternate dimension," Ray admitted.

There was a long pause.

"Did you get an EEG?" Evie asked.

"Okay, I'm out of here," Winston decided. It was getting a little too weird for him.

"That's the best part!" Ray enthused. "He took one himself! We've got some great readings!"

Evie looked thoughtful. "Does this Egon seem to know as much as ours?"

"More or less," Ray agreed.

"Then can I speak to him?" Evie asked. "He should be able to at least tell me if my equations look right."

"...That may be difficult," Ray said at length.

Evie's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"...There was another incident."

"A 'he just tried to blast Slimer' type incident, or 'there's a dimension hopping primal god chasing after him' type incident?"

"No!" Ray said quickly. "No, no-well, he did try to shoot Slimer once, but we think we've got that all figured out now. No, he, um… he discovered where Janine's bedroom was."

"I fail to see the issue," Evie said with a frown.

"Well, then we told him where _his_ bedroom was," Ray expanded.

"That makes it no clearer."

"It took about a minute for the implications of that to sink in, and that's about when he turned completely catatonic," Ray admitted. "Peter thinks he's suffered a severe nervous breakdown."

There was a long pause.

"Tell me you got an EEG of _that_ ," Evie demanded.

"Well, I _would_ have," Ray agreed. "Only after a few minutes of failing to get a response from him, Janine locked the two of them in their bedroom to try what she calls a 'home remedy'. That was a couple hours ago, and we haven't seen them since."

"Oh," Evie said, finally comprehending what he was getting at. She took a moment to process. "So the logical course of action would be for me to return this computer to Harry and wait for you to contact me as soon as my uncle has returned to his body."

"Probably," Ray agreed.

"Alright, then," Evie nodded, turning on the stairs and heading back up.

A moment later, the common room was treated to several shouts from overhead.

" _God damn it, Spengs, what did I_ just _tell you?!_ "

 **HP/RGB**

"You know, sometimes I really regret ever deciding to sit with you on the Express."

It was not the first time Hermione would lament that decision, nor would it be the last. Unfortunately for her, as Harry had grown up with Winston Zeddemore frequently lamenting something very similar, it was pretty much water off a duck's back.

"Come on, Hermione, it's an adventure!"

It most certainly was. Harry had decided that since it had been nearly a month since someone had attempted to kill him that he was unconscientiously bored, and the only way to solve this problem was to venture into the Forbidden Forest. At night. With just the three of them.

Okay, so Harry had kind of seen Hermione's protests coming, and had at first thought just he and Evie would go. Only Hermione had somehow found out about it and pretty much invited herself along, just to make sure they didn't do anything stupid.

Well, nothing _too_ stupid.

Whatever.

But Harry had been dying to explore the forest since they first had gotten to Hogwarts, and since Evie had stalled in her own work, waiting both on her uncle to get back to her and the improved clarity on the video she'd taken of the crowd while someone was cursing their broomstick, this seemed the perfect time to do so.

So the three had waited for the cover of night and headed out of the castle and into the forest.

"What I don't understand is why we had to wait until night to go sneaking out here," Hermione continued. "We could have gone just as easily in the daylight."

"That would be more boring, though," Harry insisted.

"Harry just wants to know if there are any werewolves living in the forest," Evie confided.

"Don't be ridiculous," Hermione frowned. "It's not a full moon. There wouldn't be any."

"What does _that_ have to do with anything?" Harry asked, looking baffled.

"Werewolves only become wolves on the full moon," Hermione said, starting to look confused as to why Harry was confused.

"Since when?" Harry asked.

"That's what everything I've read says, and you'd think they'd have mentioned something about it if it weren't true…" Hermione usually treated books as the be all end all of fact, but recently she'd been seeing that they weren't always totally accurate.

Clearly looking for some sort of answer, both Harry and Hermione turned to look at Evie.

"As far as I can tell, it depends on the type of lycanthropy you're talking about," Evie said with a shrug. "There are three main types. The first is one that forces the change on only the full moon and turns the wolf feral, the second is one that forces the change whenever the moon is showing and usually also turns the wolf feral, and the third is one that doesn't force the change, is usually genetically passed (though occasionally also passed through bites), and allows the person to both keep their mind and change at will."

"Like Irena," Harry confirmed. **(4)**

"Like Irena," Evie agreed.

"Who's Irena?" Hermione questioned.

"Papa Peter's on again/off again girlfriend," Harry explained. "Very nice woman, but they're both pretty headstrong, which leads to a lot of arguments. She's Shannon's adopted mom, too."

"Shannon?"

"Uh…" Harry took a moment to consider whether or not Hermione really wanted to know about the formerly half-demon boy and how his dads had saved him. Or the gruesome deaths of the boy's entire coven… not that they didn't sort of deserve it for trying to summon up a powerful demon. **(5)** (It was only the third time an entire coven had been wiped out since the founding of the country. At first people had been rightfully appalled… until they discovered the reason they'd died, and suddenly the feeling had turned to one of more "I can't believe they'd be so stupid" and "that's what you get". Luckily, no one had held anything against poor Shannon.) "Lovely night for a stroll, isn't it?"

Hermione gave him a sidelong glance, before realizing that she probably _didn't_ want to know. "You know what? Nevermind. What exactly are we doing here, anyways?"

"Exploring!" Harry said, in a rather "duh" sort of tone.

"That just means he can stay out as long as he feels like, instead of leaving when we 'find' whatever he's 'looking for'," Evie added.

"I'd be completely insulted by the accusation if it weren't completely true," Harry told her cheerfully. "In all seriousness, though, I'd like to meet a centaur. I've never met one before."

"But you've met werewolves?" Hermione asked.

"Well, Irena," Harry agreed. "She's the third type. But she's the only were _wolf_ we've met. There was an… _incident_ , though, with another kind of were-being. The second type. Very dangerous."

"There's more than one type?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, yes," Harry said, nodding sagely. "Wereardvarks, werebears… we had problems with werechickens."

"...Werechickens," Hermione deadpanned.

Harry nodded again. "Nasty little bastards. One bit Egon and then ended up growing to the size of a large house. Hey, you were there, weren't you Evie?"

"For Uncle Egon's presentation of his new weather balloon," Evie agreed, completely straight faced. "It climbed the Empire State Building, didn't it?"

"Yes," Harry remembered. "They had to use that weather balloon to stop it. It was funny, he freaked the presenters out because he had a body of a chicken at the time, and then he couldn't operate the controls because of the claws…"

"Egon turned into a chicken and then they stopped a giant chicken climbing the Empire State Building with a weather balloon," Hermione repeated. "Harry, I know you've done some weird things, but you do know you don't have to make things up, right? I mean, how would you stop something with a weather balloon? Have it take readings?"

Harry blinked. "Uh, no. They had it make a blizzard. Froze the sucker right up."

...Right. A _weather_ balloon. Hermione looked at Evie, still mostly disbelieving.

Evie just nodded solemnly.

Harry held a hand up. "True story. Ghostbuster's honor." **(6)**

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose. "You know what? I don't want to know. I really don't."

Evie snapped her fingers suddenly. "Harry, there was that other time with the werewolves. You told me about it. First type, weren't they?"

Harry paled slightly. "Don't want to talk about it."

"What?" Hermione asked, looking between the two.

"Lupusville," Harry said shortly, in a tone that clearly said he'd speak no more on the subject.

Evie narrowed her eyes, clearly trying to calculate his mood, before she seemed to figure it out. "So, centaurs?"

Harry clapped his hands together. "Right! Centaurs! Fascinating culture, and they're really good with divination. Best with Astrology, if I remember correctly, but they venture into other areas as well, such as pyromancy and hydromancy."

Hermione snorted.

"Not a fan?" Harry asked.

"Not really," she admitted. "I guess I just don't think that the future can be set in stone like that."

"It's not," Harry said with a shrug. "It's a lot more complicated than that. Usually divination will reveal only one possible future, and then there's the option to try and interfere to either get to or away from that future… only by doing so you might either bring it about or ensure it doesn't happen. It's really a hard thing to explain."

"And you're doing a bad job of it," Hermione accused.

"And I'm doing a bad job of it," Harry agreed. "Evie?"

"I, too, am unsure as to how to communicate the meaning in a concise and comprehensible manner," Evie told him.

"Say _what_?"

"She'd do a bad job too," Hermione translated.

"Oh." Harry shook his head. "Sorry, Hermione. But it's not set in stone. The future, that is. It-" He ducked suddenly, cutting himself off, at the glint of something on the ground. "...The hell?"

The other two crouched near him.

"I don't recognize it," Hermione frowned, not wanting to touch the silvery liquid that pooled on the ground. "Do either of you…?"

"Actually, I don't," Evie admitted, biting her lip. "It's not something I've come across before. I could offer a hypothesis based on descriptions of substances I've read-"

"Unicorn blood," Harry said lowly.

Two head snapped around to see him dip a twig in the liquid to get a better look. "Harry?" Hermione asked, surprised.

"I've seen it before. There was a thing, with a tapestry coming to life, and there were unicorns. Papa Peter had to play Merlin… it's a long story. But one of the unicorns was injured, and this was what the blood looked like." He grimaced as he tossed the twig to the ground. "Do you know the stories of unicorn blood?"

Evie, whose face had grown from stoic to stoney, nodded once. Hermione, however, shook her head.

"Unicorns are pure creatures," Harry began. "Creatures of magic and goodness and, well, you get the idea. The point is, they are extremely powerful when it comes to magic, and a shed unicorn horn, or willing gifted tail hairs are hard to get and worth a lot. But nothing, nothing is as powerful as the unicorn's _blood_.

"It has life-giving properties. It's rumored that the philosopher's stone, made by Nicholas Flamel, started with willingly given unicorn blood. That's nearly impossible to get, by the way. So, if you're an evilly inclined wizard looking to score unicorn blood, you don't generally go about looking for a way to ask for it. Instead, you'd just take it.

"Of course, to do this, you'd have to kill the unicorn. And therein lies the problem."

Harry took a deep breath, leaning back slightly against a tree. "Like I said, unicorns are pure. To kill one… that's just wrong. If you purposefully slay a unicorn, it curses you, and using the blood… well, it will keep you alive, but it's not pleasant. Not pleasant at all."

There was a long silence.

"So, you've never busted a unicorn?" Hermione tried carefully.

Harry snorted. "Of course not! They're peaceful creatures by nature. If someone's being haunted by a unicorn, chances are they're the ones in the wrong."

Though this was cheering Hermione up, Evie's expression was still like granite. She straightened and pulled her proton pack from her pouch, strapping it on.

"What are you… Evie?" Hermione asked, putting two and two together. "You're not still…? Something out there is killing unicorns, you said! You can't go out there!"

"Now we have to," Harry said, voice low and serious. "If something is really attacking unicorns, then we can't let it run around unchallenged."

"Yes you can!" Hermione argued. "Couldn't you let someone else take care of it?"

"No," Harry said seriously. "Right now, there's no one else. This blood is fresh. The unicorn must have just come through recently. There's a chance, if we go now, we'll be able to save it."

"But…" Hermione looked between the two.

"You don't have to come, Hermione," Evie told her, voice surprisingly gentle.

"Oh, I'm not about to let you run into danger without me," Hermione said grimly, straightening and pulling her wand. "Let's do this."

The three fell silent, moving quietly through the woods, following the trail the unicorn had left. Harry moved nearly noiselessly, avoiding twigs and leaves like only someone with years of experience in moving silently could. Evie and Hermione tried, but neither could quite copy his perfect footsteps.

It was dark, but the moon overhead, while not full, did give off enough light for them to see. And they could hear every sound.

Including the sharp whinny up ahead.

There were no words exchanged. Instead, all three ran forward, forgetting all attempts at remaining quiet. It was only a second before they burst into a large clearing to see a dark, cloaked figure leaning over a bleeding unicorn, the silvery blood and white coat seeming to glow in the moonlight.

"Back off!" Harry shouted, firing his thrower at the figure. It pulled back at the sudden light, and the shot missed, slamming into a tree behind it.

"Hurry!" Evie cried, pulling a runestone and activating it. The clearing was bathed in a sudden, harsh light.

Hermione sent a burst of ropes towards the figure and Harry shot again, but the figure dodged and ran from the clearing. It sent an unfamiliar spell towards Harry, who, without missing a beat, dove under it, rolled back to his feet, and took off in pursuit. As he did, he shot one glance back behind him.

"Help the unicorn!" he ordered, but Evie had already, knowing his thoughts, moved to the creature's side, holstering her thrower.

Harry didn't stop again, hoping Hermione would stick with Evie. Instead, he tore off after the fleeing figure.

Unfortunately, as the creature seemed more interested in flight than fight, he lost it after a few moments. Cursing, he returned to the clearing.

Evie was pale, bent over the unicorn, a book on healing magic next to her. Hermione was holding up the glowing runestone as Evie tried to simultaneously read the book and figure out how to heal the unicorn next to her.

Healing magic was not her area of expertise. It didn't look like it was going particularly well. The unicorn was still breathing raggedly. On the other hand, it was still breathing, and the worst of the bleeding seemed to have stopped.

He came to kneel next to her, holstering his own thrower. "Don't suppose you know the Sumerian word for "heal", do you?"

Evie shook her head. "No. Though that would be easier. Maybe…"

She trailed off, biting her lip thoughtfully as she struggled to come to a better conclusion. The book next to her spoke mostly of herbs she didn't have, and potions that weren't there.

Harry ran through his (admittedly short, when it came to non-curse words) mental list of Sumerian words. There had to be one that they could use, even if it wasn't a perfect one, magic always cared much more for intent than for exact wording…

" _Taru_ ," he suggested.

"Return?" Evie translated automatically. "That… that could work. We'll have to focus strongly on what we want it to mean, though, as opposed to…"

"It's our only shot," Harry determined. He laid a hand on the unicorn's flank, wincing as warm blood covered it. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. " _Nusku Taru_."

A light glow played around his hand, before slowly stretching from there to pool along the unicorn's side. It began to fill the wounds, pulling them back together.

" _Nusku Taru_ ," Evie repeated, pushing her own magic to help. Neither were particularly good at this area, but every little bit could help…

Hermione, meanwhile, had seen what they were trying to do. When she'd first arrived at Hogwarts, she'd never thought it possible to direct unspecified magic like they were currently doing. But she'd seen a lot over the past months. Seen, and learned.

She pulled her wand, touched it to the unicorn, and whispered, " _Heal,_ " before forcing all of the magic she could down the wand, not focusing on any particular area, just trying to _fix_ the magnificent creature in front of them.

The magicks mixed, running along the body of the unicorn, ready to knit together skin and bone, to heal all the ails of the fallen creature. But the wounds were great, and the magicks unfocused, unable to tell the difference between a large tear in the side and a small cut from a sharp twig.

Harry was the first to surface from the almost trance-like state they'd fallen into, lasting nearly a minute as they poured magic into the unicorn. He wanted to cry. There were still large cuts all along the unicorn's form, and the magic was fading. It hadn't been enough. Next to him, Evie and Hermione were coming out as well, but he could hardly pay attention. He was too focused on the fact that they'd _failed_.

Harry had never liked failure. In ghostbusting, failure could very well mean death. He'd seen it too often. And every time they failed, he couldn't keep himself from hating the fact that it'd happened. **(7)**

"We did it," Evie said, sounding tired, but pleased.

Harry's head snapped around quickly. "What do you mean, 'we did it'? It's still hurt!"

"But the worst of it's fixed," Evie argued, still sounding tired. "These injuries will heal on their own in time, faster if we can find a healer."

Harry blinked as realization set in. A grin grew over his face. "It's going to make it?"

Evie nodded.

Harry punched a fist in the air. "Yes!"

"Don't get too excited yet," Evie warned, digging in her pouch. "We still need to bandage these wounds. And disinfectant would be good."

Now that Harry was paying attention, he could recognize that the ragged breathing of the unicorn had eased, and it seemed to have slipped into slumber. That was good, because bandaging and disinfecting could hurt. "I've got some stuff too," he said quickly, digging in his own pouch. "Let's just hope it's enough."

Hermione, less experienced with bandaging wounds (though Harry promised to find a few mannequins to teach her the basics on), continued to hold the glowing runestone while Evie and Harry worked at bandaging all the injuries they could find. Finally, Evie leaned back and proclaimed it done.

Harry ran a hand down the side of the unicorn, careful to avoid the bandages. What on earth could cause someone to do this? Was it something on earth at all?

Apparently, he'd voiced these thoughts aloud, as Evie responded immediately, "I don't know."

"What don't you know?" Harry asked.

"If the figure you chased was from this plane or not," Evie explained. "I was picking up readings from whatever it was, but I'll need to analyze them later."

"You have an idea, though," Harry realized.

"Just an errant thought," Evie agreed. "I'll need to confirm it later."

Harry scowled, but didn't press.

The conversation was interrupted by the sound of hooves. The three in the clearing tensed, rising to their feet. Harry's hand rose slightly, preparing to grab his thrower.

And then centaurs burst into the clearing. There were four of them, tall, proud, and clearly armed as they circled the clearing before coming to stop in front of the trio.

Harry let his arm drop and instead gave a respectful bow, knowing Evie was doing the same thing. It was one that denoted a meeting of equals, and was something Harry had learned very early on in his studies. With the culture portion of her daemonology studies, Harry had no doubt Evie knew it as well. (Though he was also pretty certain that all the covens taught it. There wasn't nearly the prejudice in American Magicals that could be found in the British ones.)

Behind him, Hermione quickly copied it. (Damn, that girl was a quick learner.)

One of the centaurs returned the bow, only to be glared at by one of the others.

"You would bow to humans?" he snarled.

"If you paid attention, Bane, you would know that these humans just offered the traditional greeting of equals," the one who bowed replied. "Not that you ever seem to listen when it comes to such a subject."

Bane's response was an angry pawing at the ground.

The centaur who had bowed turned back to them. "What brings you into our forest this night?"

"We were exploring," Harry admitted. "We came across a trail of unicorn blood, and followed it here. There was something attacking it. We chased it off and did our best…"

"The unicorn is stable, but will require some further care," Evie informed professionally. "We apologize if we did intrude, but the books at the castle do not list this as a centaur reservation, and the unicorn needed imminent help. Any later and it would have died."

"So humans are finally trying to clean up their own mess?" Bane snarled.

"We don't represent the people in the castle," Harry said, disgusted. "We're from America. Well, Hermione's not, but she's first-gen, so she's not really the same as the castle folk either. Evie got some readings off of the whatever it was, though, so we should be able to figure something out… Hang on." He glanced to Evie. "If you got readings off of it, doesn't that mean that it's not human?"

"Not necessarily," Evie began. "In fact, I have every reason to believe it is _mostly_ human, and certainly disguising itself as one in the very least. I also have my suspicions as to just what it is, but, as I told you, I need more time to analyze my readings. There's a very good chance, however, that what tried to kill the unicorn and whoever tried to kill you when we tested the Ecto-6 are connected."

Harry frowned thoughtfully, but didn't say anything.

"We certainly won't let whoever _or_ whatever it is get away with it," Evie concluded.

"That is good to know," the centaur said gravely.

"Okay, onto happier topics," Harry said, clapping his hands. "I have some questions about your methods of divination…"

 **HP/RGB**

"Well, that was a productive evening!" Harry declared as they left the forest. "Papa Ray's gonna be so jealous!"

"About the divination information?" Hermione asked.

"Well, that," Harry agreed. "And also the fact that we met a unicorn!"

Said unicorn would be looked after by the centaurs until it was feeling better.

"But the divination was neat, too," Harry added.

"Don't forget which one of us actually took the notes on the subject," Evie reminded dryly.

"Yes, Evie, you're the smart one," Harry said, rolling his eyes.

"Yes," Evie agreed, lips twitching.

"Hang on," Hermione frowned. "Didn't you say that Peter was the one good at divination?"

"I said he was good at it, I never said he liked it," Harry said wryly. **(8)**

"...Ah." Which kind of explained everything.

 **HP/RGB**

Harry was sitting at breakfast when it happened.

It was too bad, as up until that point it had been a wonderful morning. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and, most importantly, Slimer wasn't around. That usually made a day good.

And, then everything changed with a single sound.

" _HAAAAAAAAWYYYYYYY!_ "

"AGH!"

Harry fell backwards off the bench as Slimer smashed through his face, both thoroughly sliming him, and dropping a package on his lap… which quickly rose to sit on his chest as he lay on the floor.

A few kids at the table snickered. Harry wearily flipped them off in response, and, glancing over, saw that Evie had slipped underneath the table. He shot a glare at her.

She shrugged sheepishly.

Sighing, Harry pushed himself up. "Hi, Slimer. How was New York?"

Slimer hovered next to him happily and babbled nonsensically, telling him everything that had happened in New York. Harry only caught about a third of it. "That's great, spud. Did you want to tell Evie?"

" _EEEEEEEEEEVIEEEEEEE!_ "

Evie shot Harry a glare before she rolled out from under the table, dodging Slimer, and tossed a piece of bacon in the air. Slimer immediately forgot about sliming her and zeroed in on the food.

"Oh, you are _good_ ," Harry observed. "How do you do that?"

Evie shrugged. "You live with him. How do you not?"

Unfortunately, after getting the bacon, Slimer slammed into the side of her face, giving her a big kiss. Evie grimaced while Harry snickered.

"Hey, gu…" Hermione trailed off at the sight of Slimer. "Oh no."

She had no time to further react before the class five slimed her as well.

"Well. This is great start to the morning," she said, pursing her lips.

"I was just thinking the same thing," Harry said dryly, before looking towards Slimer. "Hey, Slimer, the house elves have been missing you! Think you might want to go visit?"

Slimer immediately cheered and flipped happily in the air as he shot away.

"What did he bring you?" Evie asked as she finished wiping the slime off with a towel she'd pulled from her pouch. Always prepared, that one. (Not that Harry didn't carry a couple towels of his own for all Slimer related incidences.)

"A package," Harry said, holding it up. "I have no idea-"

He was cut off as music cut through the air.

" _Whenever life gets you down, Mrs. Brown, and things seem hard and tough; And people are stupid, obnoxious, or daft, and you feel like you've had quite enou-ough~_ "

Evie shot Harry a look somewhere between amusement and mortification. "I have to keep you away from the cellphone, I see."

"What can I say?" Harry asked cheerfully. "I felt like the last song just wasn't British enough."

Evie's flat stare had him fighting a grin.

" _Just remember that you're standing on a planet that's evolving, and revolving at nine hundred miles an hour. It's orbiting at nineteen miles a second, so it's reckoned, the sun that is the source of all our power._ " **(9)**

Evie cut the song off by answering, even as Harry continued to hum it. "Hello, Evanna Spengler speaking." She paused. "Yes, he just arrived. Your calculations must be correct." Another, much longer pause. "I see. Thank you for getting back to me. Incidentally, my uncle…?" Another pause, this one shorter. "Ah. Yes, that would make things difficult. Have you tried convincing him that he's not dreaming?" Another pause. "...I see. I can understand her feelings on the subject. Thank you for staying up to talk to us, Uncle Ray. Have a good night."

She hung up the phone and turned towards Harry and Hermione, both of whom were just finishing toweling off. "I have good news and bad news."

"What's the bad news?" Harry asked as he struggled to get a bit of ectoplasm from his ear.

"Uncle Egon has not yet managed to return to his body, so my analyzing will take longer than expected," Evie informed them with a frown. "I was hoping to have the Egon he seems to have been replaced with look my calculations over, but he's apparently convinced the entire experience is a lucid dream. According to Uncle Ray, his mind is from a Egon that has not yet gotten involved with the Ghostbusters, and Aunt Janine's not helping much… though she seems to be enjoying it quite a bit."

Harry made a face at the thought.

"What's the good news?" Hermione broke in.

"They've sent us back the invisibility cloak Harry got," Evie explained. "It's a powerful object, but apparently not harmful to use. They say to be careful with it, and to try not to shoot it with the proton packs."

"I have the Death Cloak from the stories?" Harry asked excitedly. "That is so _cool!_ "

"They're not one hundred percent sure it's the _Mortum Amictus_ , but it looks to be so," Evie admitted.

"Don't worry, I'll let you borrow it whenever you want," Harry assured her.

"But what are you going to do with it?" Hermione asked.

"Well, the obvious answer would be to sneak out after dark, but that's not really something we need to do," Harry mused. "We don't need a cloak to go wandering. Ah, I'm sure it will come in handy. At some point."

"Better safe than sorry," Evie agreed feverently.

"Words to live by," Harry echoed.

"I don't know," Hermione said slowly. "Don't you think there's such a thing as… too prepared?"

"No," Evie said, as though it were obvious.

"You weren't complaining when I had that atomic destabilizer on me when that manananggal attacked over Christmas," Harry pointed out. "Or the salt we used to help neutralize it."

Hermione frowned, mostly because he was completely correct.

"Or the flamethrower," Harry added, almost as an afterthought.

"Though the reasoning behind you having one of those is still a complete mystery," Hermione said dryly.

"I told you, I'm prepared," Harry argued.

"Speaking of the manananggal," Evie broke in, "did they ever find out what a Filipino vampire was doing in New York?"

"No," Harry admitted. "And I don't think they care."

"Hang on," Hermione realized suddenly. "You have a flamethrower with you at all times."

"...Yes?" Harry said slowly.

"And Professor Sprout was going on a few weeks ago about how someone burned all her geraniums without using any magic!" Hermione accused.

"There's no proof that was me!" Harry denied immediately.

"Who else would want to burn geraniums?" Evie asked lightly.

"They were looking at me funny," Harry admitted, looking down.

"Looking at you… Harry, they aren't sentient!" Hermione cried.

"Tell that to the one that nearly destroyed Brooklyn," Harry retorted. "That thing scarred me for life." **(10)**

"...I'm not going to ask," Hermione decided.

"Thank you," Harry said, his tone overly formal as he gathered his package. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to run this up to my dorm. I'd rather not leave it laying around, or open it where everyone can see."

"You opened it in the common room when you got it," Hermione pointed out.

"Yes, but at that point, I didn't know what it was," Harry argued.

"But they wouldn't have… oh, nevermind," Hermione sighed. She was fighting a losing battle.

"I'll see you later, then," Harry said, standing and wandering out of the hall, singing to himself as he walked. " _So, remember when you're feeling very small and insecure, how amazingly unlikely is your birth; and pray that there's intelligent life somewhere up in space, 'cause there's bugger all down here on Earth!_ "

"Do you ever get the feeling there's something wrong with that boy?" Hermione asked Evie.

Evie looked up. "What? I'm sorry, I was trying to calculate the amount of time we had before Slimer decides to visit us again."

"...Nevermind."

 **A/N:**

 **(1) "Man of" "Sorcery" Not actually really an insult, but Harry's a little stressed at the time. Also, I don't know when he was riding a possessed bull, but I bet it was _awesome._**

 **(2) "Incantation" "Break" "Dangerous" "Sorcery"**

 **(3) RGB episode "Ghost Busted". It's more that a little ridiculous, and a whole lot of fun.**

 **(4) In the RGB Ghostbuster comic books, Irena was a potential love interest for Peter who popped up a few times. She was also a werewolf. So... yeah.**

 **(5) Another RGB Ghostbuster comic books story, and one that's more than a little disturbing. "The Father-Thing Trilogy" was a three part story surrounding the rescue of a boy named Shannon who turns out to be the half demon son of the demon Astorath, and some Very Nasty Things occur. One interesting plot point is that high levels of magic can short out technology, and that magic doesn't work in certain locations touched by science, such as places with atomic radiation. Sound familiar? Somehow, Peter's the first one to figure it out (and actually devolves into** ** _technobabble_** **. Peter!) which makes the whole thing worth a read. As weird as the comics are.**

 **And yeah, at the end of the arc, Irena takes him in, as his whole family was basically vaporized when they tried to summon Astorath. Yay for convenient solutions!**

 **(6) No, he's not kidding. RGB episode "Poltrygeist". Egon becomes a werechicken. It's worth watching for that sole reason.**

 **(7) As smart as they often are, it's important to remember that Harry, Evie, and Hermione are just kids. Some day, Harry will be strong enough to heal a unicorn like that on his own with no issues. Hermione will be able to do it, but it will be difficult. Evie probably won't ever be strong enough to do that on her own... but she'll totally craft a runic cluster that someone else can use to do it. Also, interesting to note, Sumerian doesn't have a lot of translated words currently. So we're working under the assumption that all the ones we** ** _do_** **have translated, Harry and Evie know. Egon and Ray both are fluent, because Sumerian is translatable in that universe. In fact, Egon claims in the episode "Knock Knock", "[I can read Sumerian] In my sleep, underwater, and with the lights off. Of course I can read Sumerian." (Though, it's also worth noting the "Sumerian" in the episode looks absolutely nothing like real Sumerian cuneiform. #Iputtoomuchresearchintothisstuff)**

 **(8) Peter doesn't seem to like to acknowledge it in the episodes, but he has (apparently on more than one occasion) known the phone was going to ring before it did, and in "Mr. Sandman, Dream Me a Dream", actually dreamed of the Sandman the night before they go to face him. ("I kept dreaming about this weird old guy in a robe with glowing eyes and stuff. Real strange.") There's no actual dwelling on what the extent of Peter's abilities are, but when you add that to the fact that he was testing precognition in the first scene (or second?) of the movie, it's pretty clear there's** ** _something_** **up. Make of it what you will.**

 **(9) "The Galaxy Song", by Monty Python. If you have not heard it before, go look it up right now. It's hilarious.**

 **(10) RGB episode "A Ghost Grows in Brooklyn". Harry has every right to be wary of geraniums. They are officially banned from the firehouse, and Janine takes great pleasure in burning any that anyone tries to give her. (Egon helps, but for an entirely different reason.)**

 **And that's all, folks! (A chapter, a chapter, I really wrote a chapter!) Thanks for reading, and don't forget to review!**

 **Next Time: Harry sees things, and Winston remains the only one who can solve a mystery.**


	11. Chapter 10

**I'm back! After fighting a ridiculous amount of writers block, I've successfully managed to churn out a chapter, folks, for you all to enjoy! A fun chapter with a bit of foreshadowing (that probably won't come back to haunt you until much later) and Winston still being the only Ghostbuster who can solve a whodunnit. Also featuring my terrible excuses for why they can't go hunting horcruxes yet.**

 **I also wanted to address something that someone asked me last chapter. I responded to them in a PM, but I figured it's something most other people were probably wondering as well: Pairings. At this point (and that is subject to change, but is unlikely to) I have decided to have no pairings. There will certainly be** ** _hints_** **at pairings with multiple people, but I'll let you, the readers, choose if you want to read into those or not. I don't want someone to be really enjoying this and then suddenly come across a pairing that they don't like and stop reading. As such, the** ** _only_** **pairing appearing in this fic is Egon/Janine (which we all know is pretty cannon for RGB) with a background on/off again Peter/Irena (though again, them actually ending up together or not is up to you). I said early on that I was definitely not pairing Harry and Evie, mostly because I hate the cliched Harry/OC type pairings (but also because they were raised as family members, guys, come on!), but if you really want that pairing to actually happen, you're welcome to read into all of their interactions as much as you want.**

 **I was also asked how long the fic would span, and I can say for sure that it will cover more than just first year. I have plans up to and including fourth year (mostly because I have this awesome plan for Harry to enact against the dragon) but we'll have to see how everything goes.**

 **And now that the obligatory rant is out of the way, enjoy!**

 _Chapter Ten: In Which Harry Sees Things and Winston Remains the Only One Who Can Solve a Mystery_

Hermione came down to lunch after a rough day in charms. She'd been doing well, but one of the students behind her was whispering about how she was friends with psychopaths (which was completely untrue, even if Evie frequently acted like some sort of sociopath, that was clearly just the fact that she was emotionally repressed, not psychotic), and then Seamus Finnegan (the Gryffindor) had accidentally blown up her chair.

To add to this, the Weasley twins had earlier pranked the whole school by dying everyone's hair the colors of the house they were in. In Ravenclaw, the boys were all stuck with dark blue hair while the girls were stuck with a metallic bronze. Any other day, she might have rolled with it (no one was getting hurt and the word was it would wear off by the next day (and also it looked kind of cool)), but she was in a bad mood and pretty certain that Harry had had something to do with the prank.

(Which he totally did.)

(Not that he'd ever get in trouble for it.)

Regardless, she strode into the Great Hall for lunch, intent on locating Harry and giving him a piece of her mind. And then she saw them.

Harry looked pale, with none of his usual confidence, and was poking dully at his food. He'd clearly not eaten much of anything.

Next to him, Evie, if possible, looked even worse. It wasn't that she was pale, but she was staring straight ahead, not looking around, and her fists were clenched tight enough to turn her knuckles white.

This was worrying. The two never let anything get to them. Ever.

Immediately, all plans of tearing Harry a new one flew out the window. Instead, she sat next to them.

"What happened?" she demanded.

Harry swallowed, still pale. "I… We went to divination. It was just supposed to be a look, but I've always been curious about it, and we thought it might be cool to give it a try. Third years were trying out crystal balls today. It was just supposed to be a look, maybe even make a little prediction-" He broke off, swallowing again.

"Due to our exposure to large quantities of psychokinetic energy, it had been theorized that our psi indexes had risen significantly," Evie said, voice small. "It was suspected the same applied to the other ghostbusters, but it had never been tested… until today."

"I get why Papa Peter hates divination," Harry added, giving a weak smile.

Hermione looked between the two in shock. "What _happened_?"

Harry swallowed again. "Well…"

 **HP/RGB**

 _One hour previous, the North Tower:_

"This is going to be awesome!" Harry sang, practically skipping. "I've always wanted to try a crystal ball! How do you know they're using them today, anyways?"

Evie shot him a look that said, _really_?

"Right. Nevermind. You're you."

The two climbed up the long stairway to the north tower. They passed a few out of breath students, but exploring the castle (and occasionally chasing Peeves-more for fun than busting purposes) kept them in much better shape than most of the other kids. Also, frequently hauling around proton packs didn't hurt.

That's not to say they weren't still a little tired as they reached the top.

The pair garnered a few strange looks from the third years when they reached the room just below the Divination classroom (and it really was in the most ridiculous place) and stopped. But before anyone could say anything, a trap door was opening and a ladder was lowering downwards.

"I've said it before and I'll say it again," Harry commented as they climbed. "Hogwarts is not designed with disabilities in mind."

"Quite," Evie agreed dryly as they joined the other students in climbing the ladder.

Harry looked around the dim lit classroom as they entered and wrinkled his nose at the smell. "Huh. I thought the Weasley twins would be here."

"They transferred from the class when you started teaching them runes," Evie reminded. "You're doing well, by the way. The professor says they're at a fourth year level now."

"How do you know that?" Harry asked, looking baffled. "Even I didn't know that."

"That's because you're willfully blind and don't pay attention," Evie reminded.

"...Right. Yeah, that would explain it."

They sat at a small table together, each seat having a crystal ball sitting in front of it. Harry shot another cheerful grin at Evie, who responded with a tense smile that more resembled a grimace. They both ignored the few stares they still attracted from the surrounding class.

Not that there were nearly as many as there were at the start of the year. At this point it had been pretty much established that Harry Potter and his weird blond cousin would do what they wanted, regardless of convention. This realization saved a lot of time and energy previously wasted on staring open mouthed at the two.

And then the teacher (Harry had already forgotten her name. Tawdy, or something?) came sweeping in a swirl of heavily draping cloaks and shawls.

Harry glanced over at Evie, who was looking at the woman with a raised eyebrow.

"Welcome, dear children, to today's divination lesson," she said, voice dreamy and dramatic. "I can see we have a pair of younger students with us today. If you would like to introduce yourselves?"

"I'm Harry, that's Evie, and the frog on her head is Charles the Tree Frog. Though why exactly she decided to bring a frog to a divination class is beyond me."

"Because he's a better conversationalist than most people," Evie muttered under her breath. **(1)**

"Well, welcome to my class," she said sweeping closer. "I am Sybill Trelawney, teacher of Divination, burdened with this horrid curse to see what may be." She looked up at the class. "Today we are studying the art of divining using crystal balls. This is an advanced technique, so do not be discouraged if you can't see anything today. Especially our visitors-the eye is often underdeveloped in younger ages, as they have not yet had time to grow into their gift."

"...I'm pretty sure the exact opposite is true," Evie murmured to Harry.

"I think so too," Harry frowned. He was pretty sure it was more likely for a child to have some sort of gift than an adult, and people typically grew out of it, not into it.

So the Divination teacher was pretty much a fraud, then. Wonderful.

Putting her out of his mind and tuning out her instructions about gazing and clearing the mind and what not, Harry leaned forward to look into the crystal ball in front of him. Nothing. Not that that was a surprise.

And then…

 _Something_.

He wasn't sure how long it had been. Perhaps only a few minutes, perhaps longer, but Harry had the oddest sensation of falling forward, into the ball. Suddenly, it was like he was surrounded by the grey smoke inside the ball, still falling.

He felt almost sick. This was awful.

Then, his head jerked as a sound hit his ears and the grey smoke began to glow red. He still couldn't see anything through it, but he could hear something, a loud, blaring alarm.

 _The alarm on the Ecto Containment Unit_ , Harry realized suddenly. What…?

Voices drifted past him as he fell.

" _...been a breach! We may have to vent…"_

" _...grid is collapsing! Have to hold…"_

" _...get close enough for the manual override? That thing is throwing out fire…_ "

" _LOOK OUT!_ "

"NO!" Harry shouted as he jerked back to himself, abruptly back in the classroom, half out of his chair as he leaned over the crystal ball. His eyes were wide as he tried to process what he'd just seen: something trying to break out of the containment unit. Possibly even succeeding.

Next to him, despite the stares he'd gotten at the outburst, Evie was zeroed in on her own crystal, bright blue eyes not blinking.

He sat back heavily in his chair as the teach swooped over him. "My dear boy! You've Seen something?"

Harry struggled to get his erratic breathing under control. "I… I don't…"

Evie pulled the attention off of him when she let out a cry and actually tried to dive across the table, fingers grasping for something that wasn't there. The crystal ball fell and hit the ground with a heavy thud, rolling away as Evie's wide and pale eyes stared at something only she could see.

"GRAB ON!" she shouted, still grasped by the throws of the vision. " _Nusku Elu! Nusku Elu!_ "

At the spell, the crystal ball rose into the air, before it suddenly dropped as Evie returned to herself.

Harry could count on one hand the number of times he'd seen Evie panicked, with several fingers left over. She was panicking now, breathing shallow as she slowly pulled back into her seat.

Luckily, Harry's head had straightened enough to get them out of there, even as the teacher turned to bear down on Evie. He caught her arm. "We should go."

That seemed to pull her back. "Yes. Yes, we should."

"But you Saw something!" the teacher argued.

"Just a personal warning," Harry said, forcing cheer into his voice as the two stood and quickly gathered their things. "Nothing for any of you to worry about" (lie) "and certainly not something I'd feel comfortable about sharing with anyone." (partial lie) "We'll get out of your hair now. Have a good rest of the lesson."

As he spoke, he and Evie had crossed to the ladder and begun to descend. As soon as they'd done so enough, Harry shut the trapdoor above them.

"Are you okay?" he asked, looking down.

"No," she said tensely.

"I think I Saw a breach in the ECU," he said softly. "Did you…?"

"No," she said again.

Harry just looked at her, waiting for an answer.

"It was a nightmare and I don't want to talk about it," she said sharply.

Harry nodded. "Alright. If you ever need to-"

" _Drop it_."

"Okay."

 **HP/RGB**

"I thought divination was unreliable," Hermione said with a frown as Harry's story finished.

"It can be," Harry agreed, drumming his fingers on the table. "But there are… different parts to it. Some bits are more accurate than others, and what we did… Well, I'd say the vision was fairly concrete."

"Boosted psi index," Evie said hoarsely, not looking over.

"We'll probably have my dads check when we go home for summer break," Harry added quietly. "And I'm using the term vision lightly. I didn't actually see anything. Just heard things."

"Clairaudience," Evie said, still not moving.

"Though I think Evie actually did see something," Harry continued, glancing at her. "From what I've been able to tell. No sound, though."

"Clairvoyance," Evie agreed, voice soft.

"I don't think I've heard of the first one," Hermione admitted.

"Some people would say that while clairvoyance is 'seeing beyond', clairaudience is 'hearing beyond'," Harry explained. "A lot more people are clairaudient than realize it."

"Oh." Hermione took a moment to process that. "So you're…"

"We're not sure, and I'm sure we'll run tests over the summer to prove it either way," Harry determined. "And we're probably never going back to Divination."

"The professor will be crushed," Evie said.

The other two turned to look at her. She was looking towards them now, still pale, but a hint of amusement in her eyes.

"Evie, you're okay!" Harry cheered.

"I will be," she determined.

"But what about-" Hermione was cut off as Harry's hand clamped over her mouth. He leaned in to whisper to her so Evie couldn't hear.

"If I'm not mistaken, Evie's just finished deluding herself that whatever she saw was just a nightmare. It's not entirely healthy, but I'm not about to correct her on it," Harry explained quietly.

"So you're just going to let her-?" Hermione began.

"I'm no psychologist," Harry answered with a shrug. "Papa Peter can talk to her over the summer. For now, we'll just let her carry on like normal."

"This seems like a really bad idea," Hermione murmured.

"You've got a better one?" Harry demanded.

"...No."

"Okay, then." **(2)**

 **HP/RGB**

"Harry! Hermione!"

Evie burst through the door of the common room, a wild look in her eye. "I have it!"

"Oh, this is going to be good," Harry decided, sitting up from where he'd been napping with a book laying open over his face.

"Did you finish confirming the mathematical equations?" Hermione asked curiously.

"What? Oh, no. No, that's still on hold. Uncle Ray thought he'd figured out the problem with Uncle Egon, only it didn't work out and now Uncle Egon thinks he's a hamster. Aunt Janine is furious."

Harry grinned towards Hermione. "Apparently they've had to lock him in a large cage. But no one's saying why they have a cage large enough."

"Do I even want to know?" Hermione asked dryly.

"I know _I_ don't," Harry said cheerfully.

"I finished rendering the video from the day of Harry's near accident!" Evie proclaimed, waving her arms wildly. "We now have video showing exactly who tried to kill him!"

This attracted the attention of a few other curious onlookers, but they were summarily ignored.

"And?" Harry asked, looking very interested now.

"I don't know, I haven't watched it yet," Evie admitted. "Do you want to see?"

"Is she serious?" Harry asked Hermione rhetorically. "I think she's serious."

Evie frowned. "Well, if you're in the middle of something-"

Harry tossed the book he'd been reading over his shoulder (it was a biased history text, anyways, and therefore labelled as both "mostly useless" and "no great loss"). "Let's go."

 **HP/RGB**

The computer was set up in the lab and hooked to nine different monitors Evie had set up in the shape of a square. Each monitor showed a different part of the video, and all together, they made up the whole image. Neither Harry nor Hermione bothered to ask where Evie had found nine monitors, or why she'd had them in the first place.

"Nice," Harry complimented. "You must have done some serious rendering."

"Mostly it was just repeatedly running it through a series of algorithms," Evie admitted. "Which is why it took so long. But this is what we have."

She sat at the original computer and typed a few commands. It took a second, then an image of Harry flying over the pitch appeared.

"We can't see anything," Hermione frowned, disappointed.

"Give it a minute," Evie corrected. Sure enough, a second later, the view violently swiveled to show the audience.

"That's right, you moved it, didn't you," Hermione remembered. **(3)**

"To catch anyone who might be spell casting while we worked to save Harry," Evie agreed.

Harry, meanwhile, was focused more on the screens. "There," he said after a moment, pointing to a figure. "And… there. And… there."

"That's Professor Snape," Hermione frowned. "And Professor Quirrell. I don't recognize the last one, though. I think it's a third or fourth year Hufflepuff?"

"Not someone who could cast that kind of curse," Harry said, shaking his head. "Not with the training this school gives. Unless it's someone in disguise."

"That would show up on the camera, if it was," Evie argued. "It's Mage-Tech."

Harry nodded his understanding, before quickly explaining to Hermione. "Technomancy enhanced technology. It's a company in the States."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully.

"So, Squirrel or Snipe," Harry considered. "I know who I think it is."

"They're both teachers, though!" Hermione protested.

"Yeah, but Snipe" ("Snape, Harry-") "is under observation from the covens because of Evie," Harry pointed out. "Though, he blames me. Seems likely he'd try to kill me."

"Hm…" Evie considered.

"But… don't you think we should get another opinion?" Hermione asked desperately.

"Oh, we will," Harry assured her. "We know someone who's very good at whodunnits. Never seen him get it wrong yet, not once. I all but guarantee, though, the first thing out of his mouth is going to be 'it was Snipe'."

"Snape," Hermione corrected again.

"Yes, him," Harry agreed. "It was _Snape_."

 **HP/RGB**

"It was Quirrell."

Winston Zeddemore was the very picture of relaxed as he delivered his verdict, leaning back on the couch in the den of the firehouse, feet up, as he spoke to the three kids on the other end of the video chat.

Next to him the other two (as Egon was still locked in a cage in the bedroom, sleeping on a pile of shredded papers and nibbling on carrots) ghostbusters looked ready to protest. And immediately did so.

"No way, Winston!" Peter cried. "It had to be the snake guy!"

"Yeah, Winston, I know you're good at this, but Peter's right, isn't he?" Ray pressed.

Winston wiggled a finger. "He looks good, sure, but you're forgetting something."

"Enlighten us, then," Peter said dryly.

Winston grinned. "The unicorn."

On the other side of the video stream, Evie and Hermione nodded thoughtfully (both having already suspected a connection), while everyone else protested.

"Come on, how does that have _anything_ to do-"

"There's no reason to think they're connected-"

"This isn't one of your mystery novels, this is _real life_!"

Winston raised his hands for silence. "Now, hold on. I'm not just making things up. We already knew that whoever attacked the unicorn was from the castle. Keeping that in mind, it seems likely that there _is_ someone out to get Harry, there's probably a reason for that. Most likely, that reason is that there's a follower of Voldemort in the school."

"And it can't be Snake?" Peter demanded.

"Too obvious," Winston argued back. "Plus, Snape's been a teacher there for years. He's not suddenly going to show his true colors. If so, he would have done it years ago."

"But Harry wasn't there years ago," Ray protested.

"Harry's not the catalyst for this," Winston said. "I think the catalyst is what's in that third floor corridor."

" _Now_ you're just making stuff up," Peter accused.

"No, no, hear me out," Winston argued. "Think about it. You said a cerberus is traditionally a guard dog, right? Whatever it's guarding is dangerous. Valuable. I think it's something Voldemort wants, and this guy is working for him, which explains the attempt on Harry's life. It also explains the unicorn. The unicorn in the forest are being killed for their blood, which is supposed to be life giving… of a sort. Not something most people would be alright with, but a dark lord wouldn't flinch."

"So the servant is helping keep Voldemort sort of alive while they try to get their hands on something that's more permanent," Ray realized. "That makes sense. I'm not sure what object they'd be going after, though. Using horcruxes, there are a few rituals they could try, but…" His eyes widened suddenly. "A philosopher's stone!"

"A what?" Peter asked.

"A philosopher's stone!" Ray repeated, looking like Christmas had just come early again. "Come on, Peter, I know you've heard this one. A stone that grants eternal life, and turns base metals to gold!"

"Can we get one for the office?" Peter asked eagerly.

"No, there's only one known one in existance," Ray said, shaking his head. "Though there are some rumors about the Chinese… but the most famous by far is a proven one owned by Nicolas Flamel, a brilliant alchemist. He's currently somewhere in his six hundreds. When Egon gets better he's going to be _so_ sorry he missed this-!"

"Okay, okay, okay," Harry interrupted. "I get it. Great magical stone and whatnot. But that doesn't mean it can't be Snipe."

"It could be," Winston allowed. "But you have a much more likely candidate. Quirrel."

"You said that Snape would have acted sooner," Evie mused. "But Quirrell has also been at this school for several years. He used to be the…" she grimaced at the name " _...Muggle Studies_ professor."

"Yes, but who seems more likely," Winston said, leaning in. "A man who, well unpleasant, has remained unchanged for all his years of teaching, or a man who disappeared into the Albanian forests for a summer and came back with a completely different personality."

Harry facepalmed as he realized. "Possession!"

"Not a full one," Evie frowned. "Partial possession."

"Still explains it!"

Evie inclined her head in acknowledgement.

"But he's a _teacher_ ," Hermione tried, one last time.

"What difference does his profession make?" Peter asked. "I had a teacher try to throttle me once."

"That's because you taught three freshmen how to replicate the prank that made you famous on campus during your wild fraternity days," Ray reminded him.

Peter grinned at the memory of the three underwear-clad boys hanging from the flagpole. "...Yeah. But if I'd really wanted to cause trouble, I would have taught it to the sorority girls."

Harry bit back a snicker, while Winston turned his face to hide his grin. His shoulders were shaking with laughter, though.

"But take it from a former teacher, Hermione," Ray told her. "We're just as fallible as everyone else. And some people are better teachers than others."

Hermione stared at them a moment. "You know, I keep forgetting they were teachers," she whispered to Harry.

"They hide it well," Harry whispered back. **(4)**

"So, if Quirrel is behind this all," Evie said, "how do we proceed?"

The three Ghostbusters exchanged glances.

"I've got nothing," Winston said, holding his hands up.

"What, the great detective is out of ideas?" Peter mocked.

"No, the great detective isn't sure how to go about de-possessing somebody," Winston shot back, crossing his arms. "You know that's Ray and Egon's stuff."

Ray opened his mouth, and then closed it again. "...To be honest, partial possession is more Egon's department than mine. I could send you a few exorcisms that might work, but I'd still want to run them by Egon, first."

"And what's his status?" Harry asked.

"Still gnawing on the bars of his cage," Ray admitted. "But I'm working on something that should have him back to normal soon!"

"That's good, isn't it?" Hermione asked Harry and Evie, but they were frowning.

"How soon is soon?" Evie asked, with the air of one who'd been through this before.

Ray faltered. "...Soon?"

" _Dad_ …" Harry pressed.

"...By the end of the month. Maybe," Ray admitted. "Don't tell Janine."

"This is going to be a long month," Evie said, casting a glance towards Harry, who threw his hands up in the air.

"You've got to be kidding me! Why is it always Papa Egon who gets in these sorts of situations?!"

"Because if it were one of us, Egon would have the problem resolved by the end of the day," Peter answered with an easy shrug. "And it wouldn't be much of a story then, would it?" **(5)**

 **HP/RGB**

"I suppose," Harry mused as the three friends walked through the halls later, "that this means that we're not going to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classes?"

"You don't go in the first place," Hermione said, rolling her eyes.

"Well, yeah, but this means I have a much more legitimate excuse," Harry pointed out. "You know, other than, this class is dead boring and I'm not gonna go because-" He finished with a large raspberry.

"It's also ridiculously out of date and the lessons are repetitive and pointless," Evie added.

"I know you don't like the spells," Hermione sighed. "And I get it, I do… but wouldn't the creatures portion of it be interesting? I mean, those don't really change from country to…" She trailed off at the looks she was getting. "Right. Ghostbusters. How silly of me. The two of you deal with things like that on a daily basis."

"Not when we're stuck in this school," Harry muttered darkly.

"Our teaching when it comes to magical creatures is significantly more advanced, as well as more hands-on, than the defense class offers," Evie said dryly.

"And more practical," Harry added. "Do you know that according to that class, it takes a small army of wizards to face a horde of acromantula? Apparently they keep casting spider killing charms. It's too difficult to figure out that 'maybe we should try something less draining, like, say, _FIRE_!'. Of course, we have our own method."

"Let me guess," Hermione said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "You blast them with your throwers."

"Took three people forty minutes to clear a nest," Harry said proudly. "Easy as pie."

"Also, acromantulas apparently explode when you hit them with a charged positronic stream," Evie added. "It was fascinating to watch."

"And Papa Peter sat on the sidelines," Harry grinned. "And shrieked like a girl any time one came too close. He doesn't like bugs."

"I think he mentioned something about that over Christmas," Hermione frowned. "A bad experienced with a swarm of possessed cockroaches?" **(6)**

"Oh, he wasn't the only one with _that_ wonderful little experience," Harry stated flatly. "He just doesn't like bugs. Not that any of us _do_ , mind you, but-"

"I think Uncle Egon doesn't usually mind them," Evie mused. "He monitors the roach population of the city for signs of psychokinetic upheaval."

Harry looked appalled. "What? Still? I thought we got him to stop doing that!"

"He predicted a slight upswing in hauntings this summer, so it's going to be all hands on deck," Evie added.

"How many times have I told you never to tell me about possible psychokinetic upsurges?" Harry demanded.

Evie thought for a moment. "...I don't believe you've ever told me."

"Well, I would have thought it had been implied!"

Evie stared at him. "...How?"

 **HP/RGB**

"Hey, Harry! Harry!"

Harry paused in his wanderings to look at the redhead behind him. It took him a moment to place him as Gred and Forge's brother. He was pretty sure, anyways. They had a lot of brothers. But the kid was a ginger first year in Gryffindor, so that had to be it, right?

"Harry!" the boy repeated as he reached Harry, breathing heavily. "You move pretty fast, mate!"

Harry shrugged. He usually did move quickly, as a sort of way to keep exercising. He spent a lot of time each day moving through the halls of the castle, and knew Evie did the same thing… when she wasn't hold up in her lab trying to break the laws of physics. Or whatever it was she was always doing in there.

"So, I was wondering if you might want to play chess sometime," the boy said, still breathing hard.

"Chess?" Harry repeated. "No thanks."

"Come on, it'll be fun!" the boy pressed. "I'm pretty good. I can teach you Wizard's Chess if you haven't played before-"

"I know how to play," Harry said, waving a hand dismissively. "I just don't like it. If you want someone who'll play a good game of chess-wizard or otherwise-you should ask Evie."

The boy didn't look thrilled at that idea. "Oh. I was thinking you, actually. Or we could play Quidditch sometime. You like flying, right?"

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Yeah, it's okay," he said, downplaying his love of it. "You need more than two people to play, though. I could get Evie, and maybe the twins, if you get a few more…"

"Not really what I had in mind either," the boy said quickly.

Harry wasn't really liking where this was going. "Look, John-"

"Ron," the boy corrected.

"That's what I said," Harry said dismissively. "Are you actually looking for someone to play with, or are you just trying to get close to me? Because people try that. All the time."

Less, once they decided he was insane, but…

"It's just…" Ron began, shifting from leg to leg as he tried to put things into words. "You should be in Gryffindor!"

Harry had no response to that. "...Uh, what?"

"You should be in Gryffindor!" Ron repeated. "Your parents were both in it, and you're _Harry Potter_ -"

"Yeah, but I never knew my parents," Harry reminded, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was raised by people out of the country, really. And I don't particularly want to be in Gryffindor. What is this all about?"

Ron shifted nervously again. "You… well, if you wanted to, you'd be allowed to change houses, that's all."

"Change houses?" Harry repeated. He was pretty sure that wasn't a thing. He'd have to ask Hermione. She was the Hogwarts expert. "Why would I want to do that?"

"Because you don't act anything like a Ravenclaw," Ron pointed out. "You hardly go to any classes, and you don't seem to be doing great in the ones that you do go to, and-"

Harry blinked. He'd honestly not realized… Was that what everyone thought?

"Look, the reason I don't go to your classes is that I'm taking other ones," Harry said. "Harder ones. And I've never liked Herbology." Which was still really the only class he attended with any regularity.

"But maybe if you just hung out with some of us for a bit…" Ron tried.

"Hey, I hang out with your brothers all the time," Harry argued.

Ron blinked. "Wha… really?"

"Yeah, I'm teaching them runes," Harry explained with a shrug. "They're doing pretty well." Well enough he was definitely dumping them on Evie next year, because he'd be running out of things to teach them.

"You really don't want to be a Gryffindor?" Ron repeated, looking lost.

"I don't," Harry agreed. "Sorry."

"It's just that Dumbledore said-"

"Oh." And that explained everything, really. "No, I'm really perfectly happy where I am."

"Oh." Ron still looked a little lost. "Well, um, you can always hang out with us, if you want."

Harry considered throwing that back in his face before he reminded himself that the kid in front of him was, after all, only eleven, and probably a whole lot more sheltered than Harry had ever been. "Thanks, John."

"Ron," Ron corrected again.

"That's what I said," Harry immediately declared. "I'll see you around."

With that, he headed back down the hall, lost in thought. The headmaster wanted him in Gryffindor? Why? Expectations?

He'd have to talk to Papa Peter about this. He'd always been the best at seeing subtle manipulations. Apparently his father was an expert at it… not that Harry'd ever met the man. Peter was very clever at keeping the two separate.

He headed towards the lab, still thinking. It was curious that Ron was trying to get him on his own. He'd obviously be more receptive to changing houses if Evie came with him, so why wouldn't Dumbledore try and get them both? There was something he was missing. A phone call was definitely in order.

As he reached the lab, he found Hermione and Evie coming out, Hermione casting strange glances at Evie, who was currently wearing a black cat on her shoulder.

"Hey, Hermione, is it common for people to switch houses?" Harry asked as he approached.

"No, I don't think it's ever been done," Hermione said, frowning. "No, that's not true. There was a case of a student being in mortal danger in his house in the 1700s, a muggleborn who'd somehow ended up in Slytherin. But that's the only case I think there's ever been. There would have to be something like mortal danger for them to even consider it."

"First gen," Evie corrected automatically.

"Sorry," Hermione said, looking embarrassed.

"I wondered if it might not be something like that," Harry grimaced. "I was just accosted in the hall by Gred and Forge's brother, John. He wanted me to switch to Gryffindor. He said that Dumbledore said I'd be able to."

Evie immediately looked thoughtful, while Hermione looked exasperated. "Harry, his name is Ron, not John. And you do realize the twins are Fred and George, right?"

"That not what they said," Harry said dubiously. "Are you sure about that?"

The cat on Evie's shoulder mewed thoughtfully.

"I'm afraid I don't speak cat," Harry told it. "But I'm sure Evie will be happy to hook you up with a computer to type on."

The cat responded with a cheerful meow.

"Not you, too," Hermione groaned.

"What?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Evie was explaining to me how she was planning on playing chess with the cat," Hermione sighed.

"She's probably planning on _losing_ to the cat," Harry said dryly. "Tarantula is a chess Grandmaster."

Hermione opened, then closed her mouth. "...I have absolutely no idea how to respond to that."

"Tarantula is the familiar of a very powerful immortal warlock named Phineas Eventide," Harry offered. "She ran into us a while ago, and while she usually stays with him, she visits on occasion. Evie usually takes the opportunity to lose at chess." **(7)**

"I'm getting better," Evie pointed out.

Tarantula mewed again, though whether that was in agreement or argument, they weren't sure.

Hermione decided to let it go. "I think I'd like to watch that."

"It's usually interesting… if you like chess," Harry agreed. "Honestly, Papa Egon does the same thing."

"You must find it dull, then," Hermione realized.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "But I've got to call Papa Peter, anyways. He'll be interested in this thing with switching houses. I think."

"Most likely," Evie agreed as they reached the door knocker, and she reached up to rap it gently against the wall.

The eagle head sprung to life. " _In a certain country, half of five is three. If the proportion holds, what is a third of ten?_ "

Harry and Hermione both shot glances at Evie, who was miming writing something in the air as she thought through it.

"...Four," she decided.

" _Precisely reasoned,_ " the knocker agreed, before the wall opened.

"You see, this?" Harry asked, motioning at the door. "This is why no one wants to go with you into the common room. You make the seventh year arithmancy students feel like idiots."

"Next to her?" Hermione pointed out as they stepped through. "We all are."

Evie's cheeks tinged pink. "I'm sure Tarantula figured it out as well.

The cat mewed in agreement.

"...That makes me feel so much better," Harry deadpanned. "Where's the phone?"

 **HP/RGB**

"So, I'm supposed to start out by asking how Papa Egon is," Harry began, leaning back in his bed.

" _Well, he no longer thinks he's a hamster, so that's progress,_ " Peter said slowly. " _Ray assures me that the fact that they've gotten him from hamster to human in a single try is great._ "

"That's a 'he's not better', then?" Harry confirmed.

" _According to him, he's Benjamin Franklin. Which is equal parts hilarious and awesome,_ " Peter agreed. " _Absolutely useless on a bust, but he keeps yelling at streetlights and he's started blowing things up in the lab again, so that's good. On the downside, he keeps drinking all the beer which is less good, but just as funny._ "

Harry took a moment to imagine that. "Sounds like things are pretty normal over there, then." He paused, thinking back to one of the things he knew about Franklin. "Hang on, wasn't Ben Franklin a-?"

" _Total womanizer?_ " Peter finished, sounding amused. " _Very much so. Which is why Janine is very happy right now and no longer wants to strangle Ray._ "

Harry tried very hard to shove that image out of his head. "Oh my god, TMI! Didn't need to know! Why would you tell me that!?"

" _I think the real question here is 'why wouldn't I'?_ " Peter returned.

"I should just hang up now," Harry told him. "I should hang up and not tell you anything important and leave you to flounder over there trying to figure out what madness we're getting up to."

" _Did you have a bust?_ " Peter asked curiously.

"No," Harry admitted, sounding disappointed.

" _Then ultimately, why would I care?_ "

"Dad!" Harry groaned. "You are the most irresponsible parent ever!"

" _Which is also why I'm the fun one,_ " Peter shot back smugly. " _Please continue your depressing tale of woe._ "

"Okay, so, you remember I told you about the twins?" Harry asked. "Gred and Forge Weasley?"

" _The fun ones with the lack of rune training?_ " Peter clarified. " _Yep._ "

"That's them," Harry agreed. "Their brother-the younger one-approached me today. He wanted to hang out. Mentioned transferring to Gryffindor."

" _Any chance of that?_ " Peter asked, sounding amused.

"About the same chance as you spontaneously becoming a Jets fan," Harry answered dryly.

" _Just checking,_ " Peter said quickly.

"Anyways, I told him I wasn't particularly interested, and he said that Dumbledore had pretty much put him up to it," Harry finished. "Only I checked with Hermione. It's pretty much unheard of to switch houses. And the offer was only open to me."

Peter was silent for a moment. " _Has he ever seen Evie do runic magic?_ "

"She blew up his office door," Harry admitted.

"... _There's an excellent chance he believes that Evie is corrupting you with a subject that many British magicals consider a darker magic,_ " Peter said.

"That makes no sense whatsoever," Harry frowned. "I'm the ghostbusting fan. Wouldn't that mean I'm corrupting her?"

" _We are talking about a_ British magical _here,_ " Peter pointed out.

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it. "...Good point. So he's trying to get me away from Evie?"

" _I would suspect so. Putting you in Gryffindor would also fulfill the expectations of most of the populace over there,_ " Peter mused. " _He's probably using a Weasley because the whole family followed him in the last war. It's likely that becoming friends with them would open you to manipulation._ "

"And the twins wouldn't work…?" Harry asked, confused.

" _Can_ you _predict them?_ " Peter asked dryly.

"...Touche," Harry agreed.

" _I doubt the kid is bad,_ " Peter added. " _He's probably just trying to help you in the best way he knows how, even if that isn't actually a good way. It might also be a good idea to keep an eye on him, because it's likely that if Dumbledore tries again, it will be through him again._ "

"Politics…" Harry groaned.

" _No, psychology,_ " Peter corrected.

"That sounds significantly less evil," Harry decided. "Okay, I can do that. I think. Any tips?"

" _What did the kid want to do with you?_ "

"Chess," Harry grimaced.

" _...Good luck. You're going to need it._ "

"My thoughts _exactly_ ," Harry agreed.

 **A/N: So... yeah. Ron's not evil, he's eleven. And he's been raised believing that Harry should be a Gryffindor and that Dumbledore is infallible. He's just a kid and trying to do what he understands as right. I'm not saying he** ** _is_** **right, but that's how we're playing things this fic. It's unlikely he'll ever become close to Harry, but he'll probably be on the sidelines a bit.**

 **Now onto the real notes.**

 **(1) This is true. Charles can go on for hours about conflicting philosophies and the nature of man. It's quite unfortunate that, as a frog, no one is able to understand him. And even if they could, Evie has never been one for philosophy. It's a tragedy of the universe.**

 **(2) We will not be going into detail about exactly what Evie saw... yet. Rest assured it was horrid and nightmare inducing and Harry was in it.**

 **(3) If you look back, she really did.**

 **(4) I don't think there's any group of teachers that could so thoroughly destroy Hermione's knee-jerk respect for authority as the Ghostbusters. Seriously, I like watching them sometimes and then having a moment of "Holy shit, these guys were** ** _teachers_** **. Something is wrong with this picture."**

 **(5) No, really. It _always_ happens to Egon.**

 **(6) RGB episode "Janine, You've Changed". Peter and Ray have this great exchange: Ray: "You don't want to go up there. The ghosts got into some things..." Peter: "And they turned it into bigger, meaner versions? We know. What could possibly-" (The door is destroyed and they're all overwhelmed by a swarm of giant cockroaches.) And then later Peter gets to be an ass when he gives Janine an antenna. He deserves everything she throws at him. (Literally.)**

 **(7) RGB comics, "A Cat Named Tarantula". As stated, Tarantula is the familiar of the insanely powerful and immortal warlock Phineas Eventide. She's also a master chess player. (I can not make this stuff up! It's too good!)**

 **And that's it for this chapter! See you next time, same Ghost time, same Ghost channel. Thanks for reading, and don't forget to review!**


	12. Chapter 11

**Well, I seem to have hit a spot of inspiration, which is great because it means you all get a chapter faster. Part of this was because of my family's annual trip out of state to go see other members of the family, and me hiding for long periods of time in other rooms on my computer because I dislike crowds. (Introverts for the win!)**

 **Anyways, this does at least mean you get a chapter, and a lot faster than I was originally worried about. Yay!**

 **This also means my usual rant. I suppose this chapter's will be about Harry's opinion on Magical Britain. Because he insults it a lot. Almost excessively. To the point where one really has to wonder, "Is Harry actively prejudice against people from Magical Britain?"**

 **The answer is yes. Harry is prejudice. The truth is, he's never thought about it before. He's grown up with Peter, who throws around similar insults all the time, and generally being a bit of an ass. The thing is, Peter recognizes that the insults he uses are in a joking manner. He's old enough and logical enough to know that the stereotypes aren't true, but he'll pull them out because he likes to be difficult and he thinks it's funny. He also likes to see other people's reactions. Harry has picked up on the insults, but hasn't yet realized that they aren't necessarily true. At this point in time, Hermione doesn't realize he's usually serious (and not being raised in Magical Britain seriously softens the blow), and Evie hasn't yet realized how prejudiced he actually is. Evie doesn't particularly like Magical Britain in and of itself, but has enough perspective to recognize that she dislikes the society and not the individuals. Harry generally has more difficulty making that distinction, so when someone doesn't know something he thinks is obvious, or acts in a manner showing their upbringing, he's pretty callous about it. Eventually he'll get called on it, but that's not going to be for a bit.**

 **On the upside, his dislike doesn't completely preclude him from making friends. It's just he won't be very close to them, because he generally sees them as stupid. (That's something that will get better with age, but honestly, he's eleven. He's allowed to be a bit stupid.)**

 **That's all I have for this rant, I believe. Just a bit of character study to get off my chest. Enjoy the chapter!**

 _Chapter Eleven: In Which Harry Interacts With Other Houses and Evie Gets Fed Up With Egon's Psychosis_

"Death."

Harry didn't move from his position of lying under the tree by the lake, but his eyes still flicked towards the speaker, Tracy Davis. With the weather starting to warm again, he'd thought it would be the perfect time to relax under a tree, and he'd bumped into Tracy, Daphne Greengrass, and Blaise Zabini on his way out. Cue a small group heading out into the sunny day, and the inevitable theological discussion that followed.

"Excuse me?" Harry asked.

"Well, that's what I was thinking about," Tracy said. "Death. What comes after."

"You are incredibly morbid for an eleven year old, you know that, right?" Blaise put in, also not moving.

"Who says that anything comes after?" Daphne put in. "Maybe that's just… it."

"And you're starting now too," Blaise sighed.

"Well, something has to come after, doesn't it?" Tracy pressed. "I mean, there are people who study it. In the Department of Mysteries."

"Laying next to you," Harry added dryly.

"What?" Tracy asked, startled.

"Ghostbuster," Harry reminded.

"I keep forgetting that," Tracy admitted.

"I actively try," Blaise put in.

"What does your vast experience tell us, then, about death?" Daphne asked, voice laced with sarcasm.

"To be honest, we mostly deal with souls that have chosen to linger on," Harry admitted. "So not a lot from that end." He paused. "There's definitely a hell, though."

"Oh, well, that's a relief," Blaise deadpanned. "We can all end up in hell."

"Just because it's an option doesn't mean you're _going_ to," Harry reminded. "And sometimes we help ghosts pass on, who can't do it on their own for whatever reason. They don't end up in hell." He paused again. "...I think."

"So you've been there?" Tracy asked curiously.

"Not personally. I've heard stories." Harry looked thoughtfully up through the tree branches. "Most of my experience with the realms of the dead is with the Netherworld, or the Spirit World. It's more of a limbo place than anything else. Where the restless spirits end up."

"So we get a choice of hell or limbo," Daphne mused. "I think I'd prefer oblivion, actually."

"Well, it would be peaceful," Blaise decided. "And I wouldn't have to listen to your inane discussions."

"Well, there is something else," Harry offered. "No idea _what_ , but we've seen spirits cross over into somewhere that we can't trace… yet."

"So some sort of afterlife?" Tracey confirmed.

"Could still be oblivion," Daphne argued. "If they can't trace it."

"Sure doesn't stop Papa Egon from trying, though," Harry mused, still looking up.

"That's because your family is insane," Blaise told him. There was a brief pause before he spoke again. "You're not going to deny it?"

"No point," Harry admitted. "We all know it's sort of true. I have an insane family. That's what makes them awesome."

"...Fair enough," Blaise agreed.

"Where do you think they'll end up when they die?" Tracey asked.

"Ehn…" Harry thought for a moment. "Who knows? With the amount of PKE they've been exposed to over the years they might end up in the Netherworld as powerful demons. Just hope they'd remain relatively benevolent."

"And we're back to the disturbingly morbid," Blaise said sourly.

"Or they could go to oblivion," Daphne offered.

"No, I'm not sure that could be," Harry said slowly, thoughtfully. "You can't kill a ghost, so the same properties would hold true for anyone's soul. They have to go _somewhere_ …"

"What makes you say that?" Tracey asked, curious.

"Basic science," Harry answered promptly. "Conservation of matter. First law of thermodynamics as applied to the soul." **(1)**

"And everyone says you're not a Ravenclaw," Daphne snorted

"I dare you to live with Papa Egon for a week and _not_ come out talking like that," Harry responded dryly.

"It's too bad," Tracey sighed. "You would have made a great Slytherin."

"And then we could have these depressing conversations daily, as opposed to the bi-monthly basis we currently have them on," Blaise deadpanned. "That sounds like an absolutely brilliant idea."

 **HP/RGB**

"So, weird question," Harry began, flopping down at the Hufflepuff table in the Great Hall. "Do you guys have secret plans to rule Wizarding Britain? Because if you're ruling it already, something needs to change."

He began helping himself to the food in front of him, ignoring the incredulous stares of his year mates around him.

"I don't think you're supposed to be eating here," Hannah Abbott said weakly.

"I'd like to see them say something against it," Harry retorted. "So, is that a yes?"

"No!" Susan Bones returned. "Of course not! Why would you even-?"

"Well, that just begs the question of 'why not'?" Harry mused. "I mean, you guys could totally take over Wizarding Britain. I hesitate to say the world, but if you give yourselves a few generations-"

"Are you delusional?" Hannah demanded. "I mean… we're _Hufflepuffs_."

"Exactly!" Harry agreed enthusiastically, clapping his hands together. "That's why you're clearly the best house to take over!"

"That seems a bit Slytherin, actually," Hannah pointed out.

"Well, everyone expects it of them," Harry informed them matter-of-factly. "And no one expects it of Hufflepuff, therefore making them the perfect house to rise and rule from the shadows!"

"What house are we talking about?" Ernie McMillan asked, sitting down across the table from them and pulling a plate towards him. "And what's Potter doing here?"

"He seems to think we're planning a coup to take over Wizarding Britain," Susan told him.

"That sounds like a great idea!" Justin Finch-Fletchley enthused, sliding into a seat next to Ernie. "When do we start?"

"We're not starting!" Hannah snapped. "There's no reason to…"

"Take over the Wizarding World?" Harry offered innocently.

" _Yes_!"

"But isn't there?" Justin asked. "I mean, I'm a muggleborn. This society hates me on principle. Shouldn't we do something about it?"

"It's not that it's not necessarily a good idea," Susan began. "It's that there's no secret plot currently in place for Hufflepuff to take over Wizarding Britain."

"See, that's where I hit a sticking point," Harry said, rubbing his chin. "I mean, Hufflepuff is full of loyal, hardworking people. That's like, the perfect army right there. And you guys are all friends, more or less, right? With a whole network of Hufflepuffs, that's at least, if not more, a quarter of the populace here. Why couldn't you take over?"

"It takes more than a quarter of the populace to elect anyone," Ernie argued.

"No, wait, he has a point," Susan said with a frown. "Lots of people don't bother to vote, plus if we run on the right platform, we'll gain more support…"

"Be a great way to shove your Hufflepuff-ness in the faces of the people who think you're useless," Harry added cheerfully.

"There's also that," Susan agreed.

"You're joking," Ernie said, shaking his head. "I can't believe you're actually considering this-!"

"Well, it's not something we'd do immediately," Justin pointed out. "It's something for the future. Far future. But it's something to think about, isn't it?"

"Also, I want honorary Hufflepuff status for suggesting it," Harry piped in. "Oh, and status for Evie, too."

There was a pause while the four exchanged a glance.

"Hypothetically," Susan said slowly, "if this ever actually came to fruition, I'd be totally fine with that."

"He doesn't seem very Hufflepuff to me," Ernie argued.

"Hey, I am _very_ loyal!" Harry argued. "Loyal enough I'm wearing a Ghostbusters uniform half the time despite being across the ocean from them."

"Touche," Ernie allowed.

"Plus, he asked for inclusion of his cousin, too," Hannah pointed out.

"I should probably ask for the whole team-my new team, that is," Harry clarified. "Evie is just the only confirmed member. But they'd all totally support your attempts to take over Wizarding Britain."

"Good to know," Susan said cheerfully.

 **HP/RGB**

"So?" Evie asked Harry when he got back from breakfast.

"If such an organization as your theorized Hufflepuff Collective does exist, none of the ones I talked to knew anything about it," Harry told her. "On the upside, I may or may not have started one."

"Hm." Evie didn't look particularly surprised at that.

Harry's eyes narrowed. "You knew the whole time, didn't you? You wanted me to go over there and not confirm its existence, but found it!"

"Well," Evie said slowly, "I think it could be a tremendous force for change, which Wizarding Britain badly needs."

"Why are you not in Slytherin?" Harry demanded.

"Don't be ridiculous, Harry. I'd have burned half the beds in that dorm to ashes with various runic clusters before the month was out." No, Evie had always taken a rather dim view of bullying, and spelling the perpetrators would be something she would take great pleasure in.

"And that would be a bad thing… why?" Harry asked.

"I'm not entirely sure," she admitted with a frown. "But they don't have a private library either."

"You hate this library," Harry argued.

"I respect it in its lacking," Evie corrected.

Harry paused a moment. "You know, I bet we could totally break into the Slytherin dorms."

"That's a given," Evie pointed out. "The real question is, what would we do when we did?" **(2)**

 **HP/RGB**

It had been frequently mentioned that Harry was very good at only hearing what he wanted to hear. (While this wasn't strictly true, he was very good at acting like it, and enjoyed the benefits of such an act often.) What was less mentioned was how good he was at hearing those things.

To the point where he practically threw himself across the common room to lay over the arm of one of the chairs near where a group of fifth years were discussing magical creatures.

"Did someone say 'banshee'?" Harry asked eagerly, looking up at them.

"Potter?" one asked. "What would you know about banshees?"

"Well, how to get rid of one, for starters," Harry said cheerfully. "Did you need a banshee banished? Because we charge very reasonable rates, with a first time customer discount."

By now, almost everyone in the common room had fallen silent, clearly waiting to see what the absolutely insane Boy-Who-Lived was up to now. (After all, it had become one of the school's favorite pastimes, and Harry pretended to be ignorant of the pool the twins had going on what his next mad idea would be.)

"Uh, no?" another boy said, looking confused. "We're just learning about them. Only the professor asked us to classify the different types…"

"I didn't know there was more than one," a third boy mumbled.

Harry nodded sagely. "Oh, yeah, you've got two basic classifications of banshees. They're all interrelated, but they split off from each other a long time ago, and developed slightly different habits from it."

The three boys stared at him in surprise as Harry shifted to get comfortable in his chair before launching into a lecture.

"The first thing you have to remember is that banshees are sentient creatures, and that can make them dangerous if you piss them off. On the other hand, they're also very capable of being perfectly nice people. Both species of banshee can take a human guise, though their natural form is decidedly less appealing to look at. With the possible exception of necrophiliacs."

That made a few listeners look slightly ill, but Harry just kept his grin in place and continued.

"Now, the first type is also the most common type of banshee. They are also considered the less dangerous of the species, but this isn't strictly true. The natural form has long dark hair, whitish eyes, and drawn, green skin. Their scream is fatal to anyone who hears it, but they can also hold a pleasant conversation without screaming and killing everyone around them. Most are not malevolent, with the very rare exception cropping up, much like dark wizards. Despite their generally genial nature, they are classified as beasts by the British ministry at this time."

Harry leaned back. This was _fun_! "The second type is rarer, considered more dangerous, and are nearly always malevolent. They do not have a deadly scream, but their singing causes misfortune to those who listen. Often, they latch onto a single individual to cause misfortune to, but that isn't always the case. Their natural form is, like the first type, drawn, but with dark blue skin and red eyes. That's not to say there aren't individuals of that type that aren't great people, but they can be rather dangerous either way."

Harry grinned. "Any questions?"

"Do you know this much about all magical creatures?" one boy asked, looking slightly shell shocked.

"Nah, just ones I've met before," Harry answered, kicking his feet up. "We had a nasty run in with a type two banshee a few years back."

"And how did you defeat her?" another questioned, furiously scribbling notes on a piece of parchment.

Harry grinned again. "Well…"

"Did you blast it with a proton stream?" Hermione deadpanned behind him, though her voice was tinged with humor.

"Actually, no," Harry said, shaking his head, before he hesitated. "Well… yes, but first we reflected her own sound back at her. That made her lose her grip on her human form, and from there it was a simple matter to zap her and trap her." **(3)**

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I don't know why I bother."

"So, theoretically," one boy began, "we could reflect the sound of the scream of a type 1 banshee as well, correct?"

"Sure, if you don't listen to it yourself," Harry agreed. "Earplugs would help. I…" He trailed off suddenly. "Hey! Evie!"

Evie looked up from where her nose was buried in a daemonology text. "Yes?"

"Two questions," Harry said, holding up two fingers. "First, can you kill someone with a recording of a type 1 banshee scream?"

"No," she answered flatly.

"Second, can you counter a type 1 banshee scream using a recording?" Harry questioned.

"Yes," Evie told him.

"There you go," Harry told the listening crowd. "With a recording of a scream, you're all good. But it doesn't work for assassination."

"Yes, because _that's_ a real concern," Hermione said dryly.

"It should be," Harry said stubbornly, crossing his arms. "You'd be surprised at the number of people who try to use mystical methods of assassination with absolutely no idea what they're doing. We get called in to deal with those _all the time_."

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose. "Honestly, I don't even know why I bother asking anymore…"

"Me neither," Harry said cheerfully. "Clearly you should just take everything I say at face value."

"That," Hermione accused, pointing at him. " _That_ is why."

"I have absolutely no idea what you mean and am so insulted I am going to stop talking to you now."

 **HP/RGB**

While Ron had originally really wanted to play chess with Harry (partly because of Dumbledore's request, partly because this was _Harry Potter_ , and partly because he just really wanted to play chess period), he soon discovered that Harry wasn't the one to play chess with. No, the one to play with was definitely his cousin.

Evanna Spengler was a chess _genius_.

Okay, it wasn't like he had a huge amount of people to compare it to, but he'd grasped the concepts of chess pretty quickly growing up and was actually the best of all his brothers, even at his age (unless the twins had cheated and charmed the pieces to move incorrectly again, but anyone would lose to that). The point was, when it came to chess, Ron was well aware he was a bit of a big fish in a small pond. He'd played against a few other students of varying grades, but most didn't care for the game, or got upset when they lost to a first year.

It had been a while since Ron had come up against a good challenge.

And then, Harry had come to visit the Gryffindor common room, hoping to get the twins' opinions on something, his cousin in tow. Remembering what Dumbledore had suggested, Ron had approached him again.

And seeing the chessboard, Harry had deferred to his cousin.

Ron hadn't been thrilled at first, but he wasn't about to turn down a willing opponent. And Evie had seemed intrigued at the prospect of the game (at least, he thought so. She seemed kind of generally stoic).

Then, then had sat down.

The game had begun.

And Ron had, within twenty minutes, found himself completely demolished.

For a moment, he'd frozen. It had been so long since he'd last lost a game, it took a moment for him to process. He took a moment to stare at the board, mentally going back over the moves, this time catching how she'd skillfully maneuvered him into a trap.

And then he'd grinned.

"Bloody hell! I didn't see that coming at all! That was brilliant!"

"Thank you," Evie said, giving a formal nod. "Another game?"

Even as she spoke, Ron had already started resetting the board. Some people wouldn't understand how the boy who normally did only mediocre in class, and disliked most of the more challenging concepts was so excited by losing.

But to Ron, this was no class, no boring lesson. This was _chess_.

And this, _this_?

Was a _challenge._ **(4)**

 **HP/RGB**

While Ron had his chess related epiphany, Harry sprawled out on one of the chairs in front of the Gryffindor fireplace, next to several first year boys doing the same. Of course, this meant that conversation inevitably sparked up, on one topic that nearly every boy the world over knew at least _something_ about.

"You're a _Finches_ fan?!" Seamus Finnigan demanded.

"Well, you don't have to sound so morally offended," Harry snarked.

Seamus waved his hands wildly. "Well, yes, but… the Fitchburg Finches?"

"You do realize that Quidditch isn't nearly as popular in the States as it is over here?" Harry asked. "We only have two teams."

"You have to have more than that," Seamus dismissed. "The Hammers, the Stormers, the All-Stars-"

"Okay, first off, the Haileybury Hammers and the Stonewall Stormers are from Canada," Harry began. "Completely different country. Second, the Sweetwater All-Stars are from Texas, which pretty much means Papa Peter hates them on principle."

"The Meteorites?" Seamus suggested.

"Still Canada," Harry said, rolling his eyes.

"...The Tree-Skimmers?" Seamus offered weakly.

"That's _Peru_ ," Harry groaned. "Not even the same _continent. Anu_ , you do realize you'd completely fail geography, right?" **(5)**

Seamus shrugged.

"Besides, it's not like my family's big into quidditch, anyways," Harry continued. "We were always more into nomaj sports."

"Like football?" Dean Thomas asked, perking up.

"American football," Harry agreed. "Not soccer."

Dean pouted slightly, slumping back down.

"But what we're really into, is _baseball_ ," Harry continued brightly. "It's great. Like cricket, but less likely to make you want to bash your head into the wall because you can't follow what's going on."

"People do that?" Neville Longbottom piped up, looking surprised.

"No, Harry's just being a jerk because cricket's a sport he doesn't understand," Dean commented dryly.

"Dean, people who are _playing_ cricket don't understand it," Harry claimed immediately.

Dean turned towards where Evie and Ron were engrossed in their chess game. "Oi! Evie! How do you play cricket?"

"Hit a ball and run back and forth," Evie rattled off immediately. "I'm not sure on the specifics."

Dean looked betrayed. "I thought you had this genius cousin, Harry. And she doesn't know cricket."

"First off, that was totally cheating," Harry scolded. "Evie's knowledge base can hardly count for the common folk. Second, she doesn't really follow sports."

"Can we discuss the two footballs thing?" Seamus asked. "I'm a little lost."

"There are two different kinds," Harry said, looking blank. "American and European."

" _They're non-migratory!_ " one Gryffindor (clearly a first gen) shouted from across the common room.

"You just became my new best friend!" Harry shouted back, before turning back to the others with a grin. "Sorry, what was I saying?"

"Coconuts," Dean tried to deadpan, but he couldn't quite keep the grin from his face. Harry gave him a highfive.

"Sorry, football. There's American football, which in America we just call football, and European football, which in America we call soccer. Two different games. Not much alike."

"But how can they be nothing alike if they're both called 'football'?" Seamus questioned, frowning.

Harry shrugged. "Are quidditch and quodpot alike?"

Seamus blinked. "No."

"They're about as alike to each other as the two footballs are," Harry explained.

"That doesn't help me at all," Seamus complained.

Harry ignored him. "It is interesting, though."

"What?" Neville asked.

"Just the comparison," Harry answered. "I mean, Europe doesn't like the sports America does, and vice versa. In Europe you've got cricket, rugby, and soccer-" ("Football," Dean corrected) "-and in America, you've got football, baseball, basketball, and hockey. On the nomaj side, I mean. On the magical side, you've got quidditch versus quodpot."

"Basketball and hockey?" Seamus repeated.

"More nomaj sports," Harry said quickly. "Don't worry about it."

"So, just to clarify, there's European football and American football," Seamus said.

"Technically," Evie called, not looking up from her game, "That would be Gridiron and Association football." **(6)**

"No one calls it that!" Harry called back. "And you don't like sports! Why do you know that?"

Evie just shrugged. "Why don't you?"

"Because I don't _care_!"

"So why _do_ you think America picked quodpot over quidditch?" Neville wondered.

Harry took a moment to actually say something semi insightful. "Because it was invented in the eighteenth century and during a time when the Americas (the States, especially) were trying to distinguish themselves from Britain as much as possible?"

There was a long pause while they all considered that.

"Huh," Dean mused. "I always just figured it was because you lot liked explosions."

"Yeah, I could see that too," Harry agreed.

"Mate in six," Evie told Ron, who stared at the board a moment.

"Brilliant! Let's go again!"

 **HP/RGB**

Evie stared at the screen, expressionless. Next to her, Harry cackled wildly.

"This," Evie said at length, "is getting completely ridiculous."

On the other side of the screen, Ray had the grace to look abashed. " _Look, Evie, I know your equations are important, but-_ "

I was hoping to get them done quickly," Evie said. "Uncle Egon should need only a short while to assist me in refining them. You have finally returned his consciousness to at least one belonging to _an_ Egon Spengler, and now…?"

" _Well, he believes us now when we tell him we're not a dream,_ " Ray argued. " _So he wants to go home and is focusing all of his research on that._ "

"And he won't even look at my equations?" Evie pressed. "It won't take long-"

" _Evie, I don't think magic exists in his world. To be honest, I'm not sure how much help he'd be even if he did look over them._ "

"It's _math_ ," Evie nearly growled, her eyes looking furious, even if there was very little change in the expression on her face. "That's a _universal constant_. It doesn't matter if it's measuring magic or not."

" _We can't be certain that it wouldn't be different in a world without magic_ ," Ray pointed out. " _That may have adjusted the universal laws_."

"There was no indication of it in the universe you four ended up in when Proteus was chasing you," Evie argued. "There's no reason to believe it would be different this time!"

" _There's also no reason to believe it wouldn't_ ," Ray returned. " _I'm sorry, Evie, but you can wait a few more days until we finally get this fixed. In the meantime, I know your school finals are coming up. You can focus on those._ "

Evie looked to shut down completely. "Perhaps."

" _I am sorry, Evie,_ " Ray repeated, looking genuinely apologetic. " _I have to go, but we'll call you as soon as we figure this all out, okay?_ "

Evie nodded shortly before ending the call and looking down at the still cackling Harry. "You are a complete bastard."

"Like you _didn't_ see this coming a mile away," Harry snickered. "With our luck, I mean."

"I reserve the right to hate you," Evie declared, standing up and turning away.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked.

"To use my equations to track down a horcrux," Evie said, voice grim. "If Uncle Egon is unavailable to review them, I will test them myself."

Harry jumped up, looking intrigued at the prospect. "Ooh. No finals, then?"

"What finals?" Evie asked. "We go to hardly any of the classes. We'll show up and take the tests if we need. No studying necessary, as it's all stuff we know."

Harry clapped his hands together. "Excellent point!" he cheered. "I'll get Hermione and meet you in your lab?"

"That's acceptable. I'll upload the equations to the meter."

Harry ran off, holding down the urge to cackle again. They were going to bust a ghost!

 **HP/RGB**

"Why are we doing this?" Hermione asked, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Because there was a piece of soul in my scar and we need to find the other pieces," Harry said, as though it were obvious.

"Yes, but why am _I_ here?" Hermione pressed.

"Because you're insatiably curious and you want to know what's going on here?" Harry asked brightly.

"I want to know what's going on with _you_ ," Hermione countered, looking over to where Evie was completely absorbed in a computer with one of the PKE meters hooked up to it. "Okay, fine. I'll come with you. You're a terrible influence, you know that?"

"Yes," Harry agreed proudly.

"Got it," Evie said finally, unplugging the meter from the computer. She held it up. "The equations have been uploaded, and we can test them."

"And if it explodes in your hand?" Harry asked.

"That would suggest that they don't work," Evie deadpanned.

"Is that an actual possibility?" Hermione asked, looking only mildly concerned. Clearly she knew them too well.

"A very unlikely one," Evie said, in what may have possibly been an attempt at a reassuring manner and was actually more vaguely disconcerting.

"Joy," Hermione sighed dully as Evie held the meter at arms length and turned it on.

It didn't exploded.

"It appears to be working," Evie reported after a moment, and daring to bring it a bit closer. "Two clear and distinct points, and… hang on."

She frowned as one of the points blurred. "One's moving. I can't get a good lock on it. But I think we're okay with the non moving one."

Harry whooped. "Hunt for a horcrux is _on_!" He reached in his pouch to pull out his proton pack. "This is going to be _awesome_ …"

"It doesn't actually seem too far," Evie mused, reading the scanner. "We'll have to go up a floor or two-"

She cut off with a curse and froze, where she'd been walking to one of the tables.

Harry instinctively ducked, yanking Hermione down with him.

After a moment of no explosions, Harry cautiously peeked up to where Evie was fiddling with the meter, looking frustrated. "Any sudden exothermic reactions to look out for there, Spengs?"

"The equations aren't right," Evie said sourly, lips pressing together tightly. "They seem to correctly filter out the background radiation and locate the target, but they don't correctly take movement into account… on either end."

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose as he mentally translated that. "So basically, we can see where it is, but only when we're both standing still."

"Precisely," Evie agreed.

"...This is going to take a bit longer than you thought, isn't it?" Hermione realized, looking between the two.

"Most likely," Evie agreed.

"You know what?" Harry asked. "Fuck that. We're going to find this _Urbat_ , and we're going to find it today, and I don't care how many classes Hermione has to skip."

"I care!" Hermione protested. "Exams are coming up and-"

"And we don't really care what you get on your finals, Hermione," Harry assured her, patting her on the back. "You can have a job with us regardless."

Hermione deflated. "I give up."

"That's the spirit!" Harry said cheerfully. "Let's go!"

 **HP/RGB**

"...Evie, you know that I have the utmost faith in you, right?" Harry asked slowly.

"You could stand to mention it more often," Evie said after a moment.

"And that I totally trust you with my life and everything?"

"You've always given that impression," Evie agreed.

"And that I one hundred percent believe you're going to be able to hunt down this horcrux?" Harry asked.

"I would hope so."

"There is a wall in front of us," Harry said. "I know your meter is pointing straight ahead, and you've rebooted it twice, and it still says to go forward, but that doesn't change the little issue of ' _There's a wall in front of us_ '."

"I am aware," Evie said tightly.

They had ended up on the seventh floor, an hour after their hunt had begun, still looking for the horcrux. Unfortunately, they seemed to have hit a slight snag.

"Is that a tapestry of a wizard trying to teach trolls ballet?" Hermione asked incredulously, looking behind them. "Honestly, every time I think I've finally gotten some understanding of wizards-"

"I know, right?" Harry asked. "Everyone knows teaching trolls ballet is a terrible idea."

"Exactly!" Hermione agreed.

"They much prefer hip-hop," Harry continued. "Though they won't say no to some good disco music."

"...I honestly have no response to that," Hermione said slowly.

"More importantly, just what is going on on the other side of this wall?" Evie frowned. She had pulled out her map of the school and was studying it intently. "According to this, there _should_ be a room… only it's not marked here."

"Unplottable?" Harry asked.

Evie considered that. "Perhaps."

"Maybe they bricked it up for one reason or another," Harry mused. "Well, we have someone to test that."

Hermione took half a second to process what he meant. "Oh, please say you don't mean-"

Harry had already raised his hands to his face and shouted, at the top of his lungs, " _COOKIES!_ "

There was a moment of silence.

"Well, maybe he didn't hear?" Hermione offered hopefully.

"Oh, no, he heard," Evie assured her, a hint of amusement in her tone.

A second later, Slimer came whizzing through the wall just down the hall, leaving a large patch of slime behind him. " _COOO-KIEEEEES!_ "

Harry was reaching in his pocket, trying to pull something out (a cookie, most likely), but wasn't quite fast enough, and ended up thoroughly slimed as Slimer smashed into him, sending him flying backwards. "Agh! Evie! Hermione! Help! He slimed me!"

"You brought this on yourself," Hermione reminded him, looking on with what was supposed to be an expression of disapproval, but her face kept twitching as she struggled not to laugh.

"I hate you both," Harry declared, finally pulling a cookie from his pocket and tossing it to Slimer. "Hey, Slimer, can you do us a favor? Try and go through the wall there."

Slimer scarfed the cookie down before rearing back and charging at the wall… where he splatted into it in a gooey mess.

"Another shower," Hermione sighed, lifting a strand of now green covered hair. " _Wonderful_."

" _Sowwy, Hawwy,_ " Slimer said, before babbling for a moment.

Harry nodded sagely. "Must be."

Hermione looked between them. "What?"

"Slimer was just saying that he thinks there's some sort of magic on the room there," Harry explained.

Evie frowned thoughtfully as she stared at the wall. "...I wonder…"

Harry jabbed a finger at the wall. " _Nusku Sekkuru Peta._ "

The outline of a door glowed against the wall as Harry's magic tried to force the door open, but it failed after a few seconds, the glow fading.

"That didn't work," Hermione observed.

"But it almost did," Evie frowned. "Like the door wants to open, but something's preventing it from doing so."

"Idea!" Harry cheered suddenly, digging in his pocket and pulling out a sight runestone. He'd begged Evie to make him one for a week before she'd broken down and showed him how to make one himself. The result was pronounced "barely adequate". Harry couldn't remember the last time he'd been so proud of himself.

(It had been two weeks earlier when he'd assisted the twins in breaking into Snape's office, where they'd covered every surface with an inch and a half of ectoplasm.)

Evie glanced up as he raised the stone. "Harry, wait-!"

"Arghlehagh-!" Harry made a strangled sound as blinding light erupted in his vision, the magic beyond the wall shining much more brightly than he'd thought.

"-The magic in the door will likely blind you," Evie finished unnecessarily as Harry doubled over holding his eyes, the runestone dropping to the ground. "This is why I didn't want to show you how to make one of those."

"Not talking to you, in too much pain," Harry groaned. He straightened, blinking rapidly. "I think I burned my retinas."

"Probably," Evie agreed.

"Slimer, do you know how to get through the door here?" Hermione asked, doing the intelligent thing.

Slimer babbled a moment before flipping in the air excitedly and diving through the floor.

"You do that," Harry agreed, hands back over his eyes. Clearly, he hadn't realized Slimer had already left.

Hermione looked at the patch of slime left behind. "I'm not cleaning that up."

"We'll claim Peeves was playing with ectoplasm again," Harry offered, somehow able to guess exactly what she was talking about (not that it was hard). "That sounds believable, right?"

"Not particularly, but then again, I know you," Hermione admitted with a shrug.

"Hardy har har," Harry commented dryly as he removed his hands from his eyes. "Any idea who Slimer was going to ask?"

"Harry, you remain the only one other than the original Ghostbusters who can understand him when he gets going," Evie pointed out.

"Hey, a language I speak that you don't!" Harry cheered.

"I'm not sure that qualifies."

"That's fair," Harry agreed. "Maybe we should- _Agh!_ "

Slimer burst through the floor, recovering both it and Harry in slime.

"Oh, this is going great," Harry commented, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Best bust I've ever been on. Really."

"Slimer, did you figure out how to get through the wall?" Hermione interrupted.

" _Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh!_ " Slimer said eagerly, nodding and bouncing in place. " _Yelves!_ "

"The house elves, you mean?" Harry clarified, doing his best to scrape some of the ectoplasm off of himself. It wasn't doing much good.

Slimer nodded excitedly again, before babbling wildly, puffing himself up, and deliberately miming walking back and forth.

Harry's mouth fell open. "No way!"

"Curious," Hermione said slowly, "but sort of scared to ask."

Harry rubbed his hands together gleefully, suddenly completely uncaring about the slime. "Let's see if this works, then." He pulled himself up, walked slightly away, and then paced in front of the wall three times.

A door came into being.

Harry clapped his hands excitedly, sending bits of ectoplasm everywhere, and seized the door handle. He yanked it open, revealing…

"...An entire amusement park?" Hermione asked incredulously.

"I love this door!" Harry declared. "Okay, so Slimer says it basically takes whatever form you want it to! And it totally can! This is the best room _ever_!"

"Fascinating," Evie agreed, eyes fixed on the room. "I'd love to get a look at the magic behind it-"

"But is the horcrux in the amusement park?" Hermione interrupted.

Harry wilted. "Ah… probably not. Give me a second."

He closed the door and watched it disappear before pacing in front of the wall again. Nothing happened.

"Harry?" Hermione asked.

"I just asked for the horcrux, but that's clearly not working," Harry frowned, looking at the door. "I wonder…?" He tried again, pacing three times in front of the wall, and the door reappeared. "Aha!"

"What did you ask for?" Hermione asked as Harry practically dove for the door knob.

"A room to hide things in," Harry said proudly, throwing it open. "It might take a bit to find, but… aw, shit."

They got their first look at the massive piles of _stuff_ stretching out into the distance. There were books, clothing, brooms (Harry would probably be taking one or two with him), trunks, globes, and a wide variety of other things stacked haphazardly at best in what seemed to be a near endless maze.

Harry was the first to find his voice. "...This is going to _suck._ "

There was a long pause.

"Well," Evie finally determined, "let's get going."

 **AN: And, a good place to leave off, I believe. On to the actual notes:**

 **(1) As stated by Egon in the IDW comics, in the Haunted America story. He makes an excellent point, actually.**

 **(2) Four days later, the Slytherins woke to find themselves unable to find the doorway to leave the dorms. It took the teachers six hours to figure out how to fix the problem. Fred and George were unofficially blamed, but there was never any proof found. The next day, Harry received a small box of Honeydukes chocolate from the twins, politely requesting to know how he did it. He never told them it was Evie who did it.**

 **(3) RGB episode "Banshee Bake a Cherry Pie?"**

 **(4) Like I previously mentioned, Ron is just a kid in this fic. He likes his chess, though, and is eager for the chance to learn more. Evie's just happy to have an opponent.**

 **(5) These are all listed Quidditch teams. I didn't make these up.**

 **(6) This is true. The wonders of the internet.**

 **That's it this time. Please review with any thoughts or opinions!**

 **Next time: There is a horcrux and Harry wrestles a dragon.**


	13. Chapter 12

**Oh, look, I wrote a chapter! In a relatively reasonable amount of time, too! Go me!**

 **This, of course, also means that I must include an interesting but ultimately pointless rant about something to do with either the Ghostbuster fandom or this story specifically. Today, a bit of character analysis, much like last time.**

 **In the Harry Potter series, we all know Hermione is very fond of authority figures. She'll go to them first for help, because growing up she had few friends and she relied on authority figures to make sure she was treated fairly. However, in coming to Hogwarts, that view is beginning to change. She still wants to look towards the professors as the authority figures she's come to respect, but there are a few reasons why that's not really working out for her. The first is that when the castle's in danger, Harry and Evie are the ones to respond to the threat, and they do so easily and professionally (mostly). (For example, the troll.) This would put them on the level of authority figures, but they're also her friends, which muddles the line. Over time, she's started to seem them more as friends, but recognizing in some part of herself that they're on the same level as the authority figures in the castle therefore lowers her esteem of the other authority figures in the castle.**

 **While she still mostly views authority figures outside of the castle in much the same way she always did, hanging about the Ghostbusters won't let that last long. As I previously mentioned, despite how much they act like it's not true,** ** _Peter, Ray, and Egon used to be teachers_** **. And all of them hold multiple degrees. (Even Peter. Peter Venkman holds two doctorates. How on earth did that happen?) And let's face it, Winston's on the same level as them at** ** _least_** **. (We all know at this point he could get a doctorate in parapsychology in heart beat if he actually wanted to try.) Yet they are probably the worst examples of authority figures you could ever find. It's going to take some time for it to sink in, and there's definitely a bit of the knee jerk reaction of "authority is right", but Hermione's well on her way to losing that view.**

 **And I think that's it for this chapter's discussion. Enjoy the chapter, and don't forget to review!**

 _Chapter Twelve: In Which There is a Horcrux and Harry Wrestles a Dragon_

The first order of business, Hermione insisted, was making sure they had a way back out. Evie and Harry both wanted to immediately dive into the morass, but she was very persuasive. So the two stood impatiently while Hermione did in the first few piles before coming up with a spool of thread. Then it took a few more minutes for everyone to declare the thread curse free.

The second order of business was to get rid of Slimer. Which was actually pretty simple, as Harry informed him that they were going to fight a "very scary ghost" and that the house elves would probably love if he visited.

Finally, they were ready.

Evie ran another scan, so they would have at least a vague idea of where to go. She pointed straight and slightly to the left, so they headed out.

"For the record, this is a lot more boring than I thought horcrux hunting would be," Harry commented.

"Because you're not running for your life?" Hermione asked dryly.

"Pretty much," Harry agreed. "I mean, these are supposed to belong to a dark lord, right? So we should be circumnavigating traps, fighting monstrous guardians, and generally trying not to die. Not searching through piles of junk."

They paused to let Evie run another scan.

"Honestly, hiding it with a bunch of junk seems a great place to hide it," Hermione argued. "Just think about it. It's rather troublesome to find, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Harry agreed slowly. "But it doesn't really seem like Voldemort's style, does it? He seems more… Um… Evie?"

"Megalomaniacal?" Evie offered.

"That," Harry agreed.

"Well, if I were a dark lord, this is the sort of place I'd hide a horcrux," Hermione declared.

"Yes, but you're smart," Harry argued.

"Voldemort wasn't unintelligent," Evie pointed out.

Harry considered that. Maybe she was right. From what he'd heard, Voldemort wasn't originally raised in the wizarding community. "Maybe, but the egomaniacal tenancies stemming from him being a straight up psychopath suggest he'd want something a little more grand, don't they?"

Hermione stared at him.

Evie nodded. "I knew you picked up something from Uncle Peter's occasional forays into psychology."

"I seriously keep forgetting he's got a doctorate in that," Hermione muttered.

"Can you answer the question?" Harry demanded.

"No," Evie said. "I know little to nothing about abnormal psychology."

"Maybe his ego's appeased by the fact that it's at Hogwarts?" Hermione suggested. "It is supposed to be well guarded, and it's a prestigious location."

"You know psychology?" Harry asked, surprised.

"I've read a few books," Hermione agreed. "Answer the question."

"That could be it," Harry allowed. "He'd probably also like the fact that it was hidden under Dumbledore's nose."

"That sounds logical," Evie agreed, before pausing. "...I think."

"I thought you didn't know anything about psychology," Harry said, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't," Evie answered. "I studied sociology instead. But I can use logic."

"That's logical," Hermione said, hiding a grin. "I think."

Evie shot her a deadpan look.

"How much further?" Harry asked, reaching out and picking up a sword, which he shoved in his pouch. He'd been picking up souvenirs the whole time.

"I'm not sure," Evie admitted, pausing to run another search. "... Apparently not far at all."

"Are you getting a signal?" Harry asked eagerly as she fiddled with the meter.

"No. We've passed it since the last scan. We should be close enough to pick it up on the meter's normal settings now." Finishing her adjustments, she swept the meter in an arc from the direction they'd just come. "Bingo."

"Finally!" Harry cheered.

They moved back down the path they'd followed, where Evie stopped in front of a bust of an old warlock, chipped and discolored. A white wig sat on its head, and on top of that, what looked to be a battered tiara.

"This is it," Evie informed them.

"He put a piece of his soul into a tiara?" Harry asked disgustedly.

"He put one in you. Clearly his standards leave much to be desired."

"Holy _shit,_ " Hermione realized.

"All I'm saying is that it's hard to take a guy seriously as a dark lord when he uses something like a tiara to put his soul in," Harry said firmly. "What's next, a diary?"

"Please be at least somewhat realistic," Evie sighed.

"I would have been, if he hadn't have picked a _tiara_ to shove his soul into," Harry complained. "Seriously, I want to tell people this story someday. I can't sound badass when I say, ' _Oh, yeah, I destroyed the Dark Lord's tiara. Devilishly tricky to find, but no big_.' That just sounds pathetic."

"Most likely because it is," Evie reminded. **(1)**

"That's my _point_ ," Harry began, but Hermione interrupted them both.

"Guys, do you realize what this is?"

"...A tiara?" Harry offered slowly.

"It's _Ravenclaw's Diadem_!" Hermione told them, eyes wide. "It's a famous artifact created by Rowena Ravenclaw, meant to expand the mind! It's been lost for centuries!"

"Really?" Harry asked curiously. "It doesn't look lost."

Hermione made a strangled sound. "You are _impossible_!"

"All I'm saying is that if he wanted to pervert an ancient and powerful artifact, he could have picked a much cooler one," Harry declared. "I wonder if we can get the soul piece out without destroying it."

Evie looked thoughtful.

"You can't destroy it!" Hermione protested. "It's a priceless piece of history!"

"Clearly, you never saw what happened at the Guggenheim," Harry muttered.

"It's not something we have a choice regarding," Evie informed her flatly, detaching a trap from her pack. She strapped the PKE meter to her belt and held tightly to the trap's handle while she activated it. There was the obvious evidence that the tap was exerting some sort of force on both the bust and wig, with them both shuddering slightly, but the diadem actually was pulled right in.

"The diadem was saturated with enough spectral energy for the trap to affect it," Evie observed. " _Fascinating._ "

"Boring," Harry complained. "Completely boring."

"You found a magic room," Hermione reminded.

Harry couldn't keep a grin from his face. "Yeah."

"And we did, anticlimactic as it was, find a horcrux," Evie reminded.

"Okay, so it wasn't completely boring," Harry allowed. "Just mostly boring."

"No bust where you get slimed can be completely boring," Evie said sagely.

"Ugh, thanks for reminding me!" Harry moaned. "I've got to take another shower, and…" He suddenly trailed off, an excited look in his eye.

Hermione caught on first. "No, Harry, you can't use this room to call up a spectacular shower."

"Spoilsport," Harry complained. "First the horcrux is a stupid tiara, and then I can't shower in the magic room. This is the worst bust _ever_!"

"... Everglades," Evie reminded.

"This is the _second_ worst bust ever!" **(2)**

 **HP/RGB**

Slimer got the honor of caring the slightly smoking trap all the way back to New York. Evie had not informed the Ghostbusters of her testing of the equations, but they were all pretty sure the guys would figure it out upon finding a horcrux in a ghost trap.

Harry wasn't exactly excited for the lecture that would probably follow. Of course, it depended on who actually did the calling. Winston and Janine would definitely lecture them about proper safety procedures, Egon would be more impressed they pulled it off, Peter just wouldn't care, and Ray was about fifty-fifty on the impressed/worry scale.

Upset at the lack of actual busting, Harry dumped his few finds in Evie's lab for her to check for curses. Evie had called him a hoarder, but frankly any opportunity to get a really awesome sword (which had apparently only had a few strengthening and protective charms on it) was good with him.

(Also, he'd seen Evie stealing one of the more elegant daggers he'd found, so she had no room to talk.)

A few pieces had ended up confiscated by Evie, including one other item with enough of a spectral trace for her to trap it and send it off with Slimer and instructions that the contents should be completely obliterated. Harry didn't ask.

Knowing how disappointed Harry was, Evie came up with a solution. (Plus, they may as well take advantage of the great weather of Scotland in the spring.) She found him while he was laying backwards in one of the chairs in the common room, his feet over the head of the chair and his head hanging off of the seat.

"Hermione's finishing setting up the testing equipment on the Quidditch field."

Harry pushed off his seat so fast, he fell off, knocking his head on the floor. "Ow!"

"Be careful," Evie said belatedly.

"Oh, _thanks_ ," Harry snarked back before realizing what she'd just said. "Wait, we're finally going to finish testing the Ecto-6?"

"That was the hope," Evie agreed. "We can pick it up from the lab on our way outside."

Harry practically sprinted from the room. " _Whatareyouwaitingforcomeonlet'sgo!_ "

Evie let the corner of her lip twitch upwards. "If we run, she won't be done setting up by the time we get there…"

Harry had already left the common room.

...Of course he had.

 **HP/RGB**

"This test will proceed precisely like the first, though, obviously, hopefully without the murder attempt. You will first rise to a hover, then on my signal, proceed to circle the pitch at a reasonable speed. As needed, we will up the speed and the needed performance from the broom, until satisfied with it. Any questions?"

" _Anshargal_ , Spengs, give me the damned broom," Harry snapped, strapping on his helmet. "We've been through this once already."

"I need verbal confirmation before I can hand over a prototype like this," Evie insisted.

"Yes, roger, I hear you, whatever." Harry snatched the Ecto-6 from her hand and mounted it with a practiced ease. "Can I fly now?"

"No." She raised a hand to her headset. "Testing, one, two."

"Three, four," Harry deadpanned. "Loud and clear. Now _get me off the ground!_ "

Evie returned, finally, to her spot at the equipment, next to Hermione. The brunette had become much better at operating the scanners, and so was taking the majority of the readings, leaving Evie to focus on mostly the trickier parts. As soon as she was sitting, Evie activated the headset, and instructed, "Rise to a hover."

Hermione flipped several switches as Harry did so. "Holding steady. We are go for phase two."

"Potter, begin to circle. Three times. _Reasonable speed_."

The sound of a raspberry came over the headset as Harry began to slowly circle.

"How do we look?" Evie asked Hermione.

"Looks good so far," Hermione said, frowning in concentration. "No noticeable variations in performance at this speed."

"Good. We'll let him complete the three laps, then pick it up a bit."

"No worries about a sudden drop?" Hermione asked.

"Not really. I've added a series of runic clusters against ill-intentioned magic, and we're missing both of our prime suspects from the crowd," Evie said, nodding at the scattered watchers in the stands.

"Didn't we agree that it was definitely Quirrell?" Hermione questioned.

"Yes, but Harry's still not one hundred percent convinced, and it's always better to be safe than sorry."

Hermione thought of the number of explosions Evie had set off that year (and those had only been the ones she'd been present for!) that had ignored most safety measures. "Uh-huh."

"Speaking of Harry…" Evie trailed off, reaching for the button on her headset. "Move on to the dips." There was a pause, as Harry did as ordered, then a quick " _Reasonable speed!_ "

The figure on the broom gave an exaggerated finger snap, but slowed down.

"Harry can be very difficult to work with," Evie commented.

"I've noticed," Hermione returned dryly.

"Still, he's a good friend," Evie continued. "I don't have many of those."

"None of us do," Hermione pointed out. "Not really. I mean, I'll talk to other students in classes, and Harry's pretty social outside the three of us, but he's always putting up an act, isn't he?"

"I'm surprised you picked up on that, to be honest," Evie said. "He's an excellent actor, if you don't know his tells."

"I may not have many friends, but I pay attention to the ones I do have," Hermione informed her seriously. "I don't want to lose any of them."

"A very good attitude to take, so I'm told," Evie told her.

"Speaking of not losing friends, are we positive that Quirrell's working alone?" Hermione asked. "I'd really rather not watch another attempt on Harry's life."

"Even if he- one second." Evie reached for her headset again. "Okay, circles again, Potter, and this time you can kick the speed up."

Harry punched triumphantly into the air and immediately fell into a steady circle, and began to pick up speed.

"As I was saying, even if Quirrell wasn't working alone, I took precautions," Evie continued, eyes flicking between Harry and the screens. "Top row, just to the left of center, dead ahead."

Hermione glanced up and raised an eyebrow to see Dumbledore sitting above the students. "I thought you didn't get along."

"We don't. He agrees with the British Ministry's view that many of the magics I'm best at are evil. However, he won't kick me out because he needs Harry because of that prophecy Voldemort believes in. And because he needs Harry, I can trust him to sit in the top row and not try anything (because doing so when Harry's on a broom is just stupid, and Dumbledore's ignorant, not stupid) and keep an eye out for anything untoward going on."

"So you're using him?" Hermione clarified. "As some sort of bodyguard?"

"If the shoe fits," Evie agreed.

Hermione shook her head. "You really should have been in Slytherin."

"Funny, Harry tells me that on occasion. But I'll have to disagree." She pressed the side of her headset. "Up and down again, this time at faster speeds." **(3)**

Harry whooped through the headset, and immediately flipped in the air to go diving at the ground, before pulling up at the last moment to spiral into the air… only to dive back to the ground again.

"Try not to cut it that close, Potter, we still don't have a complete grasp of the maneuverability," Evie rebuked.

" _Speak for yourself,_ " Harry shot back, before spinning into another sharp dive.

"Everything seems to be holding up," Hermione reported, eyes scanning over the computer readouts. "Can we call this successful?"

"Not in the least," Evie said immediately. "We're not going to send anything out into the field that we haven't extensively tested first."

Hermione gave her a long sidelong glance.

"...When we actually have the opportunity to do the testing," Evie amended.

"Mm hm," Hermione agreed wryly.

Evie sighed as she activated the headset again. "Alright, Potter, this is your opportunity to go wild. Get a feel for the broom, we're going to ramp things up next."

Harry cheered and went wild, zigzagging crazily, dropping and rising and circling back around as he finished familiarizing himself with the broom's abilities.

"Harry will put it through a much more thorough test just by enjoying himself than with anything I could come up with," Evie explained to Hermione.

"Everything looks clear," Hermione informed her. "Though I'm curious to see what's next."

"We start getting to the fun stuff," Evie answered, as she flipped a switch next to her. In the center of the field, a large target materialized.

Up on the broom, Harry pulled to a stop. " _Spengs, please tell me that's what I think it is._ "

"Testing proton thrower, phase one," Evie reported both to him and Hermione. "Fire at will, Potter."

Harry shot to a position not far off center and twisted the top of the shaft of the broom. It froze in the air, becoming sturdy, and the shaft morphed into a familiar barrel shape. He fired, but the beam hit to the side of the target, scorching the grass.

The watching crowd gasped at the sight of the destructive beam.

" _Shit,_ " Harry cursed, as he tried to realign, but failed, as the broom was frozen in place. " _Hang on, I've totally got this._ "

"I think I'll need to improve that," Evie mused, as Harry twisted the shaft again, returning it to the form of a normal broom. He realigned, retwisted the shaft, and fired again, this time striking just off center of the target.

"I thought I commented on that problem before," Hermione frowned. "Didn't you fix it?"

"...Actually, now that you say that, I think I did," Evie recalled, reaching for the headset. "Potter, try the red button next to the firing mechanism in firing mode. That should return a limited mobility to allow for aiming and slight dodging, though, obviously, nothing like you normally can in flight mode."

Harry took her advice, this time hitting the target dead center. " _Ha ha! Got it!_ "

"Excellent. Try a few more times, then we'll up the difficulty again."

" _On it!_ " Harry switched back to flight mode and circled a few more times, before attempting to stop suddenly and quickly aim and fire again. He hit just off center a second time, cursed, and tried again.

It only took a few minutes, however, before he was hitting the target dead center nearly every time.

"Ready to ramp it up?" Evie asked Harry. "Or are you nervous with this still?"

"I'm nervous," Hermione whispered, still checking over the read outs.

Evie hurriedly shushed her.

" _Bring it on_ ," Harry challenged.

"I'm starting the dodging drills now. Get ready. Once you're comfortable, try firing at the target again."

Harry grinned as several boxes previously scattered over the field slid open at the flip of a switch and small silver guns rose from within. They locked on or near Harry, and began to fire.

The guns were Mage-Tech, made for the magical and less messy equivalent of paintball. They could fire any number of programed spells, but these specifically fired bright pink colored stinging hexes. They were slow moving enough to give Harry a chance to dodge, but quick moving enough to make it challenging, with minimal consequences of getting hit.

In short, they were perfect to shoot at Harry.

Above them, Harry let out a whoop again as he spun under the first wave of curses, clearly having the time of his life as he circled one gun's beams, leading them on a goose chase across the pitch. The range on the guns had been programed to be short, so even as Harry looped around the spells, they all fizzled out before reaching the stands, much to the enjoyment of the cheering crowd that was observing.

Finally, as he reached what he deemed a safe point, Harry flipped the broom to face the target, twisted the handle, and….

...got hit by a spell.

Immediately the guns powered down for several seconds as Harry cursed, and reset to flight mode.

"Again," Evie instructed, checking her instruments. "I need to know if we need to adjust it more."

" _On it,_ " Harry agreed. " _I'm going to hit this thing if it's the last thing I do._ "

"Let's hope it's not," Evie commented, garnering an odd look from Hermione.

The guns started up again, and Harry zipped nimbly between them. After another minute of dodging, he got to a safe position, locked the handle, and fired. He missed the target slightly, but was able to release the handle and resume dodging without getting hit.

"It looks like it works, he just needs practice," Hermione mused.

"Maybe, but that doesn't mean I'm going to stop improving it," Evie responded.

Hermione nodded in understanding.

Above them, Harry tried again, this time hitting the target, but getting struck by the guns before he could escape. He yelped before moving again to a safer spot before the guns began again.

"Still no change in the readings," Hermione commented, glancing towards Evie, who was sitting, leaning slightly forward, her eyes fixed on the broom over head, with a contemplative frown on her face. "...Evie?"

"Just thinking," Evie said after a moment. "Would it be easier to not mount the proton stream and have him only use his pack? It might decrease the time it takes him to aim. On the other hand, he'd still have to stabilize the broom, and it's difficult to use a thrower one handed. Perhaps it would be better to have him wear his pack, and only use the broom's proton stream in dire situations. Of course, that leads to the question of whether trying to fly with a proton pack would compromise the maneuverability… and it all comes back to that, doesn't it?"

Hermione blinked at her, before glancing back up to Harry, who was snapping himself into position. "Uh…"

A proton stream blasted the target on the field before Harry twisted away again from the firing spells, cheering as they missed.

"Or maybe Harry just needs a little more practice," Hermione finished.

"Or maybe he just needs a little more practice," Evie echoed.

The two watched as Harry successfully hit the target a second time, whooping as he did so. The third time, he struck the target, but was hit before he could move away, with a yelp.

"This may be one of those stupid questions," Hermione said after a moment, "but have you considered adding some sort of shield to the broom to deflect attacks like that? Even if it just takes the edge off, or only shields for a few seconds as Harry's swapping between modes, it seems like something that would be very useful."

Evie stared straight ahead for a moment. "Of _course._ A _shield_. It's _obvious_."

Hermione couldn't keep the small, smug grin from gracing her features, nor could she prevent the sardonic words that dripped out. "Missing the forest for the trees there?"

"I've decided I don't want to talk to you," Evie said sourly.

"Doesn't matter," Hermione reminded. "We're recording this for future analysis anyways."

Evie ignored her and contacted Harry again. "Potter, get down here. There's something else I want to try."

 **HP/RGB**

 _Harry, Evie, and Hermione,_

 _We're very disappointed in you for going out hunting a horcrux without taking the proper safety precautions. We will be having a very serious discussion about what you should do next time something like this comes up just as soon as we finish stopping what appears to be a giant sumo wrestler from eating Queens._

 _We all love you,_

 _Janine, Peter, Ray, Winston, and Egon_

 _PS: Evie, Egon is back and wants to see your equations at the earliest opportunity. Try not to give them to him before the sumo wrestler is taken care of: he doesn't need the distraction._

Harry lowered the letter, a grin on his face. "Well, that's good! They're mad, but they'll have time to cool off before they start lecturing us!"

"A giant sumo wrestler?" Hermione asked Evie.

"Still not the weirdest thing they've seen," Evie responded, pouring over a notebook with most of her equations scribbled in it. She was trying to figure out what had gone wrong with the tracking before they headed out on their next hunt.

Hermione decided not to ask. "You aren't worried about getting in trouble?" she pressed Harry.

"Not too much," Harry answered with a shrug as he tossed Slimer, who had delivered the letter, another piece of bacon. "We should be fine, as long as we don't get into even more trouble before they call us again."

Hermione frowned. "...And what, exactly, are the chances of that occurring?"

"Practically non-existent," Evie piped up.

"Great," Hermione sighed, head drooping. "My parents are going to kill me."

 **HP/RGB**

Harry had always claimed Evie was too smart for her own good. Clearly, her calculations were just as on the nose.

As proven two days later when Hermione came rushing into the lab.

At the time, Evie was absorbed with some machine Hermione didn't recognize and Harry was amusing himself with an admittedly impressive card castle that already used most of a deck. What made it doubly impressive was the fact that it had been built with a deck of cards meant for the game Exploding Snap.

Any other day, Hermione would have questioned the feat, but she was a little distracted at the time.

"Hagrid has a dragon!"

Harry yelped in surprise as he accidently set the cards off in a good sized explosion, sending the castle tumbling to the ground.

Evie glared at the sooty remains and Harry's blackened face. "How many times have I told you not to bring those things into the lab?"

"Come on, Spengs, you blow things up all the time!" Harry argued.

"In the pursuit of _science_." **(4)**

"Are you not hearing what I'm saying?" Hermione interrupted, still out of breath. "Hagrid has a DRAGON!"

"What sort of dragon?" Harry asked eagerly. "I've only ever met Papa Egon's, and that was more a protective spirit taking on the form of a dragon, and they had to put it back into hibernation when it kept stealing cars."

Hermione looked to Evie to check the accuracy of that statement.

"It didn't belong to Papa Egon, it belonged to our ancestor, Zedekiah."

"I seriously can't tell when you guys are telling the truth anymore," Hermione complained, looking between the two. "And I don't know what kind of dragon, but I would assume it's a real one."

Harry tilted his head. "When you say real-"

"I mean not a ghost, spirit, or shape shifting entity," Hermione said dryly.

"What about other dimensional beings?" Harry said after a moment.

"What?" Hermione asked, not entirely sure of what he was asking.

"Well, did it talk?" Harry clarified. "Because there was this thing once with a dragon and knights and an evil wizard… and an extra dimensional portal on the subway." **(5)**

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose. " _It is just a normal dragon_." And wasn't _that_ up there on the weirdest things she'd ever said.

"Well, that's disappointing," Harry said, slumping slightly. "That means that we can't bust it or any-Evie? What are you doing?"

Evie was currently pulling her uniform on over her clothes, the lab coat she had been wearing discarded on one of the chairs nearby. "I'm going to see a dragon."

"But we can't bust it!" Harry protested.

Evie shot him a look. " _Harry._ It's a _dragon_."

Harry processed that for a moment before he jumped to his feet and copied her. "That's right! Dragon! What are we waiting for?"

"You to stop being obstinate," Hermione deadpanned.

"Obstinate? Who's being obstinate? There's a _dragon_ , guys, hurry up!"

 **HP/RGB**

"...So, which one is Hagrid?"

"Oh for God's sake. Harry!"

 **HP/RGB**

Hagrid was skittish when Hermione returned with them in tow, but she got him to let them in anyways. It didn't take long to see why, either: there was a dragon the size of a large dog curled in front of the fire place, and it was rather… territorial.

Hagrid's worries evaporated, however, when the dragon lunged at them and Harry actually caught its neck and wrestled it to the ground.

Hagrid shot a glance at Evie and Hermione, the latter who was staring at the spectacle with wide eyes. "How exactly is he-"

"Kinetic casting," Evie answered absently, her PKE meter already out and scanning. "He's using it to strengthen his body. He probably can't keep it up for long, though."

"Long enough," Harry grunted, twisting his body so the dragon's burst of fire struck the fireplace. A few seconds later and he'd pinned it.

The dragon struggled futilely for a few seconds longer before relaxing limply.

Hermione stared, open mouthed.

"This is so cool!" Harry grinned, pushing himself up as the dragon did the same, though acting noticeably subdued. "I've always wanted to meet a dragon. It's illegal to own one in the States, though."

Evie cleared her throat. "Harry. It's also illegal here."

"Well, that sucks," Harry decided. The dragon made an attempted snap towards Hermione, but Harry smacked its head, and it pulled back with an almost sheepish air. "What's its name, Hagrin?"

"Hagrid," Hermione hissed.

"That's what I said," Harry claimed immediately.

"This here's Norbert," Hagrid said, getting back on balance at the opportunity to talk about his favorite subject. "He's a Norwegian Ridgeback. I hatched 'im meself."

"You are aware Norbert's a she, aren't you?" Evie asked.

There was a long pause.

"That would explain the viciousness," Harry said after a moment, before smacking the young dragon's head again as it snaked out, this time towards Evie.

"How kin you tell?" Hagrid questioned.

"The scans I'm taking," Evie explained, holding up her ever present meter. "They're consistent with a healthy young female dragon. But the hormone levels are wrong for a male."

Harry peered at Norbert again. "That would also explain the lack of equipment. I _was_ going to ask…"

"Please give me a moment," Hermione said weakly, still staring at Harry the apparent dragon tamer. "I need to process this."

"Since when have we ever given you time?" Harry asked. "Besides, little Norberta isn't so bad. She's too small to carry Rolls Royces, for one."

"Why would that even be a facto- _Norberta_?" Hermione demanded.

"Yes, and she clearly likes me better than you, so _ha!_ " Harry cheered, scratching her under her chin. (Norberta, not Hermione.) **(6)**

"How did you manage to get a dragon, Hagrid?" Evie asked curiously.

"Didn't, rightly," Hagrid admitted. "Won her egg off a chappie at the pub. Bit o' a strange bloke, truth be told. Never saw his face."

"Hm…" Evie mused with a frown. "You _won_ it?"

"In a game of cards," Hagrid explained. "Man seemed happy to get rid of it. Bit reluctant to give it to someone, but I told 'im after raising a cerberus, a dragon weren't too bad."

"Excellent point," Harry agreed.

"But Hagrid, you live in a _wooden house_ ," Hermione reminded. "Not to mention the fact that owning a dragon is _beyond_ illegal. Someone is going to find out, and you're going to get into a lot of trouble!"

"Hermione is correct," Evie told Hagrid. "However, Norberta is a rare dragon, and a healthy female, meaning she'll be able to have children of her own, making her a prize for any dragon sanctuary you'd choose to send her to."

"Didn't Don say that one of his brothers works at a dragon sanctuary?" Harry asked suddenly, snapping his fingers. "I mean, he has so many it's not really surprising that they collectively do everything, but-"

"His name is _Ron_ ," Hermione sighed. "Really, I don't know why you seem to be allergic to his name, but-"

"I'm not allergic to his name, I'm allergic to everyone's name," Harry pointed out as he smacked the back of Norberta's head again as she nipped towards Hermione. "You don't think my dads would let me keep her, would you? They have special dispensation when it comes to dealing with magical creatures."

"No," Evie said flatly.

"I'd be curious as to how you managed a dragon in New York," Hermione pointed out.

"Well, we mostly just ignored Papa Egon's dragon while he searched for a way to put it back into hibernation, which I think is actually part of the reason it kept stealing cars, now that I think about it, and it wasn't a real dragon anyways, but we still got plenty of complaints," Harry said thoughtfully. "And then the other dimensional one could talk and was actually quite nice apart from inadvertently getting Mum kidnapped by an evil other dimensional wizard, so I'm not sure she counts either-"

"Harry, stop talking," Hermione ordered, holding a hand to her head. Honestly, she was too young to be getting these chronic migraines.

"Harry, you can not keep a dragon," Evie told him firmly.

"Even if we pass it off as a ghost?" Harry asked, giving her puppy dog eyes. He should have known better-those never worked on Evie.

" _No_."

"What if we-"

" _NO._ "

Harry drooped slightly before reaching out to smack Norberta's head again as she tried to light the table on fire.

"I think it's safe to say that no one should keep the dra- ...Norberta," Hermione said, correcting herself on the name.

" 'Ang on, I never agreed to this!" Hagrid protested.

All three of the first years turned to stare at him.

Hagrid met their eyes for a moment before drooping like Harry had only a moment before. "Okay."

"We do have to figure out where we're going to send her," Hermione continued. "And no, Harry, New York is not a proper answer."

"Fair enough," Harry agreed.

"I don't believe there are any dragon sanctuaries in Britain," Evie mused. "The largest one is in Romania…" **(7)**

"There's one in Sweden, too," Harry offered. "And a few other places in Europe, but I think the best bet is probably Romania."

"It'd be the best place to house a dragon on short notice," Evie agreed. "They'd also have the ability to handle any rarer requirements of Norberta because of her species."

"That's great, but we still haven't figured out how we're going to transport a dragon to Romania," Hermione pointed out. "She's not exactly small. She's got to be several months old at least…"

"Three an' a half," Hagrid told her.

"I'm honestly impressed you hid her that long," Hermione admitted.

"I'm honestly impressed you went that long thinking she was a he," Harry added.

"So, how do we transport her to Romania?" Hermione repeated, ignoring Harry.

There was a long pause while everyone considered that.

"What if… what if we didn't have to?" Harry asked after a moment.

Hermione and Hagrid looked at him like he was crazy. Evie looked thoughtful.

"I'm just saying," Harry said. "Who has to know that you hatched the dragon, Hagrid? You've been hiding her well. All we need to say is that you found her abandoned in the forest, and that you took her in. Then the authorities help you transport her to somewhere she can be with her own kind, and you don't get in trouble because they aren't going to look too hard into it because they're getting a free, rare dragon."

There was another pause while that sunk in.

"Would that actually work?" Hermione asked.

"It… probably would, actually," Evie frowned. "I don't think it would work in America because they would be doing extensive research into where the egg came from, but I'm not entirely sure of the procedures here and if they match up to how the rest of the ministry is run…"

"Yay for hopeless incompetents?" Harry offered.

Evie's lip twitched. "Either way, if they do call you on your lie, the fact that you turned the dragon into the proper authorities will go a long way, and will probably see you acquitted of any potential charges. Especially as you didn't actually buy the egg, and can claim that you didn't know what the egg was when you were gambling."

"I'm a genius, clearly," Harry summed up.

"Hagrid, if you're uncomfortable, we can write a letter to the authorities on your behalf," Hermione offered.

"That'd be nice," Hagrid agreed. "Thanks, all of you."

"Always happy to help," Harry informed him, though he was focused on Norberta, who seemed to be getting antsy again. "Now, more importantly, Evie, Hermione, do you think you'd be able to carry me up to the castle between the two of you?"

Hermione thought of the levitation charm and answered, "Probably. Why?" at the same time Evie answered, "No."

"Because I'm about to magically exhaust myself wrestling with a dragon," Harry answered, before tackling Norberta again, sending the two of them rolling across the floor.

Evie shot Hermione a look that clearly said, _this is all your fault_.

"Uh… Oops?" Hermione offered sheepishly. She really should have known better.

 **HP/RGB**

"... _And so your timely intervention would be most appreciated_ ," Hermione finished, speaking aloud as she wrote. " _Sincerely, Hermione Granger, Evie_ -"

"Evanna," Evie corrected.

"- _Evanna Spengler_ ," Hermione repeated, " _and Harry Potter on the behalf of Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of the Keys and Grounds, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._ What do you think?"

"Acceptable," Evie decided. She glanced over towards the fireplace, where Harry was sprawled in a chair. "What do you think, Harry?"

"Huh?" Harry asked blearily. "What was the question?"

"The letter we just wrote, Harry," Hermione sighed. "What do you think?"

"I wasn't listening," Harry admitted. "It's probably fine. Let's face it, I'd probably just add curses, anyway."

"I know for a fact you can be very silver tongued," Evie reminded, raising an eyebrow. "Whether you choose to employ it or not."

"I'm going to pretend that I actually got what you just said and assume it was an insult," Harry said tiredly. "And register that I'm too tired to think of a response at the moment."

"Actually, I think it was a compliment," Hermione told him. "...I think."

"In that case, thanks," Harry decided.

"What on earth possessed you to wrestle a dragon, anyways?" Hermione asked. "It seems like a rather stupid thing to do."

"Maybe," Harry agreed. "But on the other hand, I got to _wrestle_ a _dragon_. Enough said."

"Oh my _God_ ," Hermione groaned. "You are such a _boy_."

"And proud," Harry added with a silly grin. "Papa Peter's gonna be so _jealous_."

"And Aunt Janine is going to yell at you for your stupidity," Evie pointed out.

Harry considered that. "Worth it."

Evie looked skyward.

"Harry's mule headedness aside," Hermione broke in, "we still have a letter to send to the ministry. Do either of you have an owl?"

"Don't need one," Harry informed her. "Slimer's faster, more reliable, and generally more awesome than any normal, boring post owl."

"Be that as it may, do you really think it's a good idea to send Slimer into a center of government?" Hermione rationalized.

"Well…" Harry said slowly. "With all the slimeballs there, he should fit right in, shouldn't he?"

"...I don't even know how to respond to that," Hermione admitted.

"Try this," Evie suggested. "Harry, we don't want to send Slimer into the ministry because they're likely to try and curse him as a first reaction."

"Point," Harry admitted. "Fine. We can use a normal, boring post owl. But I still think Slimer would be a much better courier."

"Noted," Evie said dryly.

"Also, I think I'm going to pass out now," Harry added cheerfully. "Have fun finding the owlery."

"Pass out?" Hermione asked, looking over. "Don't you want to move to your be-"

She stopped talking when she realized he was already snoring. "Really, most days I don't know why I bother."

"It's an eternal mystery," Evie agreed. "But look on the bright side."

"What?" Hermione asked.

"If you hadn't bothered today, you'd never have seen someone wrestle a dragon."

There was a pause. Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Evie, sometimes I really hate it when you're right."

 **AN: Because, come on, guys, it's a** ** _dragon_** **.**

 **(Also I totally forgot about Norbert for a while, so... this is me, much like the flying lesson, covering my ass. But it was harder to fit in, what with Harry not really being close to Hagrid, and... well, this is the eventual result. Harry wrestling a dragon.)**

 **So, Harry and Evie are both devious little shits who probably would have done well in Slytherin. But Harry much prefers the view from the tower, and Evie's still too smart for her own good. And on to my notes!**

 **(1) Harry remains just a** ** _tiny_** **bit psychic. And also, let's face it. "Dark Lord's tiara" is possibly the lamest magical item description in the history of ever.**

 **(2) What exactly happened in the Everglades, you ask? All I'll say is "Ghost alligator". I'm sure you can fill the rest in yourself.**

 **(3) She would have made an excellent Slytherin... but she makes an even better Ravenclaw.**

 **(4) Because that makes all the difference.**

 **(5) RGB episodes "Egon's Dragon" and "Surely You Joust". The first is hysterical because Egon has a dragon. Also it's touching. And kind of sad. It's rather well written, all things considered. The second is a shorter episode worth watching for the sole reason of seeing everyone dressed up like knights. 'nough said.**

 **(6) Because the other would likely roast him.**

 **(7) Actually, according to the Harry Potter Wiki, there is a small reserve in Wales. However, Evie has never tried to remember all the dragon reserves and has forgotten about this one, and while Harry remembers it, he views "within Britain" in much the same way as many Americans: as pretty much just England. Despite being in Scotland at the time.**

 **So, not too many notes this time! Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading, and don't forget to review with any thoughts or questions!**

 **Next Time: Harry meets the Minister and goes through a trapdoor.**


	14. Chapter 13

**So, sometimes you get writers block. Sometimes you get really bad writers block. And sometimes you get really bad writers block and look back at your stuff and realize, "Holy crap, I haven't updated in over a year!"**

 **And then you feel guilty and immediately try to figure out how to continue the story.**

 **What happened was I went through a lot of changes in my life very rapidly. (Nothing bad. Things just changed.) And then I found a new fandom that I didn't so much jump into as go plunging of the edge of a cliff screaming wildly and loving every minute of it. You know. Like you do.**

 **Despite these troubles, I am committed to this story. And though I still have a terrible bit of writers block, I think I can at least manage to finish up the year. You all deserve that much at least. Expect another chapter in a relatively short period of time.**

 **Sorry again for the wait, and enjoy the chapter!**

 _Chapter Thirteen: In Which Harry Meets the Minister and Goes Through a Trapdoor_

"What do you think dragons think about?"

Hermione looked slightly incredulously at Harry. "What?"

"Dragons," Harry repeated. "What do you think they think about?"

The three of them sat in Hagrid's hut, Evie in a chair near the door, writing in a notebook, and Harry and Hermione both cross-legged on the table. Norberta was curled up in front of the fire, and Harry often tossed her small pieces of meat she happily snapped up.

"Is he serious?" Hermione asked Evie. "I think he's serious."

"It's likely, but I wasn't paying attention," Evie admitted, looking up.

"Why, what are you doing?" Hermione questioned. "More work on those equations?"

"No, I have those finished," Evie answered. "I'm working on a very important paper for my daemonology course."

"On?" Hermione asked curiously.

"The leading causes of destruction of powerful daemons," Evie explained. "Current number one is pissing off the Ghostbusters."

"Excellent advice," Harry said sagely. "But that doesn't answer _my_ question."

"Because clearly that's so much more important," Hermione deadpanned.

"Exactly," Harry agreed.

Hermione and Evie exchanged a glance.

"So, dragons," Harry continued. "What do you think they think about?"

"They have no higher brain function," Evie said flatly. "I doubt they consider more than food and sleep and territory."

"Maybe, but that's no fun," Harry complained. "You have no imagination."

"We really need to discuss your need to be the most important person in the room," Hermione commented.

The conversation was cut short when the door of Hagrid's hut opened, letting several people in. The first two were Hagrid and Dumbledore, but Harry didn't recognize the next four. The first was a plump man in lime green robes (why was it that British Wizards seemed completely colorblind?), the second a stern looking woman, the third another woman with a more relaxed demeanor, and the fourth a tall, slightly sinister looking man.

"...Hardly think there's a dragon, here, Dumbledore, if there was…" The man in green drew up short at the sight of the three kids and the small dragon in front of the fireplace.

There was a long pause.

"Hi," Harry greeted.

Next to him, Hermione rested her head in her hands.

"That's a _dragon_ ," the man said, looking like he was in shock. "What is a _dragon_ doing not attacking people?"

That, of course, was when Norberta let out a roar and dove across the room at the new visitors.

"No!" Harry shouted, diving for her. "Bad dragon! No attacking people!"

The adults watched in surprise as Harry wrestled Norberta to the floor. Norberta whimpered when Harry pinned her against the rug again, looking like a scolded puppy.

The man in green whimpered.

Evie straightened up. "Yes, there is a dragon here, and you are extremely fortunate that Harry is well trained in how to subdue one. I would suggest no sudden movements."

"Harry?" the man asked. "Not… Harry Potter?"

"Hello!" Harry greeted cheerfully. "This is Norberta!"

"That dragon is attacking Harry Potter!" the man cried, pointing. "We have to take care of it!"

"What?!" Hermione demanded.

"What?!" demanded the stern looking woman next to the man in green.

Evie rolled her eyes skyward. " _Enlil_."

"I'm afraid that because Mr. Potter is in no immediate danger, killing a Norwegian Ridgeback is considered illegal," the second woman reported. There was only a moment's pause before she added, "Sir."

"Sit," Harry instructed, standing. Norberta remained low on the rug.

"Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling. "This is the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. With him are the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Amelia Bones, Harriet Ramier, a member of the Department of Protection of Magical Creatures, and Walden Macnair, from the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures."

"Nice to meet you all…?" Harry said slowly, obviously not quite understanding what was happening. Next to him, Hermione shot to her feet, wide eyed.

Evie cleared her throat. "Minister, Director Bones, Ms. Ramier, Mr. Macnair? My name is Evanna Spengler, and I am Harry's adopted cousin. Next to Harry is our close personal friend, Hermione Granger. And, of course, you know Harry Potter."

"And this is Norberta," Harry introduced again. "Hagrid found her in the woods."

Bones had a slight coughing fit, showing just how much she believed that story.

"I fail to understand just why Mr. Macnair is here," Evie added.

"He's here in case things went… downhill," Ramier said easily. "Now, Minister, with your permission, I'd like to remove the dragon? The reserve in Wales is expecting us."

"I knew I was forgetting a reserve," Evie muttered.

"Wales is in _Britain_?" Harry asked, looking shocked. "Well, you learn something new every day."

The adults all looked at him.

"Hello, American here?" Harry reminded. "Evie, why is everyone looking at me like I'm Slimer at a fancy party?"

"They still consider you British," Evie explained easily. "Also, you're speaking to the head of the government of magical Britain."

"...Ah. That would explain it."

Ramier cleared her throat loudly.

"Yes, yes, Ramier, get the beast out of here," Fudge said, waving a hand dismissively.

Hermione frowned as Ramier stepped forward to catch Norberta firmly around the neck and remove a silver medallion from her pocket. "I'm sorry, do I know you from somewhere?"

Ramier tilted her head, blue eyes studying Hermione. "...Perhaps." Then the portkey in her hand activated, and both she and Norberta vanished.

Hermione continued to frown, trying to recall why the woman looked familiar.

"Minister, forgive my curiosity, but why are you here?" Evie asked. "A dragon hardly seems the sort of problem to require your attention."

"Why, nothing is beneath my attention," Fudge said, a little too quickly, smiling. "I would never presume that-"

"My name was on the letter," Harry reminded.

"Ah. Yes, that would do it," Evie agreed.

Bones held a hand to her mouth to hide a grin.

"Regardless of whether or not someone's name appeared on a letter (and that someone's visible importance to the country), I am here to smooth over any potential difficulties," Fudge continued. "Difficulties which we are lucky seem not to have arisen."

"How fortunate," Evie deadpanned.

"Hagrid, you said that you found the young dragon already hatched in the Forbidden Forest?" Bones asked.

"Er, yeah," Hagrid agreed. "Little tyke was just explorin'."

Harry cleared his throat loudly. "But, _hypothetically_ , we could explore a situation where he didn't find her. All _hypothetical_ , of course."

"...Of course," Bones agreed, picking up on what was going on. "Hypothetically, I'd want to know where the dragon egg had come from, as the black market for dragon eggs is rather costly for the reservations they're stolen from."

"Well, hypothetically, Hagrid may have won it off a stranger he didn't recognize in Hogsmeade," Harry offered.

"Hogshead," Hagrid clarified.

"Hogshead," Harry repeated. "Hypothetically."

"Well, if this hypothetical were a reality, I'd thank you, Mr. Potter," Bones said with a tight smile. "Unfortunately, I have work to do. Minister? Mr. Macnair?"

The look that passed between her and the sinister man was loaded with something Harry couldn't quite identify, but Fudge smiled and nodded genially. With a nod to everyone else, she swept from the hut, no doubt headed for Hogsmeade.

"I suppose, then, we won't be needing Mr. Macnair's particular brand of skills," Evie mused. "Such a shame."

There was something in her tone, too, that made Harry frown, but he couldn't place it either.

"Ah, Macnair, would you give us a moment?" Fudge asked, perhaps picking up on the tone, perhaps just asking for his own reasons.

Macnair grunted but stepped from the hut. Dumbledore shot a look at Hagrid, who followed him, speaking loudly about showing him some of the animals in the area.

Harry was still pretty sure he was missing something going on underneath the surface.

"Mr. Potter," Fudge began, getting closer. "Harry. May I call you Harry?"

"No," Harry frowned.

Fudge faltered for a moment. "Mr. Potter, then. Enjoying your time at Hogwarts?"

"Eh," Harry allowed. He'd probably have said no yesterday, but he had just _wrestled_ a _dragon_. That was pretty cool.

"Given any thought to what you'll be doing in the future?" Fudge asked cheerfully.

"Uh…" His first reaction was to say that _of course_ he knew what he was going to be doing, he was a _Ghostbuster,_ for God's sake, but he could see something that Fudge couldn't: Evie shaking her head wildly. "Well, I'm not _entirely_ sure. That's a long way away, you know?"

Evie signed something, and Harry found himself very thankful Egon and Ray had thought to teach him sign language. It really was useful, especially when facing ghosts sensitive to noise. And, apparently, dealing with nosy politicians.

"I've been thinking I might do something exciting," Harry continued, glancing to Evie every so often. "Like being an auror. Or a dragon tamer. That dragon was pretty neat, though I don't think I could wrestle a full grown one!"

Fudge laughed at that, as Harry had intended him to. Honestly, though, there was no way Harry would have been able to wrestle a full grown dragon. They were far too big. He was feeling tired just from wrestling Norberta.

"Well, it's good to hear you're enjoying things," Fudge told him. "If you ever need anything-anything at all-don't hesitate to give me a call."

"Sure," Harry agreed, forcing a smile. He _hated_ politics.

"Harry," Evie said, coming to his rescue, "I believe you have a paper to write? We should really get going now that Norberta's gone."

"Right!" Harry agreed quickly. "Great to meet you, Minister, really, but Papa Egon will be disappointed if I don't finish my paper on the history of necromantic rituals-" (Evie stepped heavily on his foot) "Oooow...I mean history of auror tactics! You know, how they've changed over time! Fascinating subject, come on, Hermione, time to go!"

With that, Evie had finished pushing him from the hut, Hermione following close behind.

As soon as the door shut, Hermione couldn't keep herself from snickering. "Necromantic rituals?"

"One, did you see Dumbledore's _face_?" Harry laughed. "Two, I actually am studying them right now. And the dangerous creatures that can be released by them."

"Oh, yes, let's get another person in the family run out of the country for studying necromancy," Evie said dryly.

"Hey, that would mean that I get to go back to schooling in the states!" Harry cheered. "That's a plus!"

"And you'd lose the Ghostbusting team," Evie reminded.

"Well, you'd probably come back too," Harry pointed out. "And Miskatonic isn't that far from New York. And Hermione would probably follow us."

"I would not!" Hermione denied immediately.

Both Harry and Evie gave her a "look".

"Is it that obvious?" Hermione sighed.

"Just a bit," Harry grinned. "And come on, the worst of the move would be that your parents would have to leave the most dangerous organization on Earth."

"What?!" Hermione demanded.

"You know, the BDA," Harry explained. "Of course, I'm sure with their experience, the ADA would be happy to welcome them with open arms, but they'll probably always be labelled traitors-"

"Harry!" Hermione hissed. "The British Dental Association is _not_ the most dangerous organization in the world!"

"Well, if your parents join the ADA, the secrets they bring with them will no doubt allow them to get a leg up on the BDA," Harry mused. "On the other hand, the BDA has a badass factor that the ADA doesn't. Hm. I'm going to have to think about this. Hermione, how far up in the organization do you think your parents ar-"

He ducked a swing from Hermione and ran for the castle, her in hot pursuit.

"Harry!" Hermione shouted.

Harry responded in the most mature possible way: he broke into song. " _Lemming, Lemming! Lemming of the BDA! Lemming, Lemming! Lemming of the BD, Lemming of the BDA-A-A-A-A!_ "

"The maturity of a five year old," Evie frowned, watching the two. "Sometimes, I swear…" **(1)**

 **HP/RGB**

"So, what was going on with Macnair?" Harry asked later, as he and Evie hung out in her lab. Hermione was missing, as she was studying for her Charms final the next day.

"What do you mean?" Evie asked. She could be forgiven for not immediately picking up on what was going on, as she was going over the improved horcrux equations. Egon had picked up on her problem almost immediately (apparently he'd had a similar problem when he was first designing the PKE meters) and sent a series of things to fix. She was pretty sure she'd figured it out now, but there were still a few things to tweak.

"You and Whatsherface, the MDP woman-"

"Amelia Bones. And she's an Auror, not a MDP officer." **(2)**

Harry waved a hand dismissively. "Stupid name. Regardless, you were both looking at Macnair oddly, and so was Dumbledore. What's up with that?"

"He was on Uncle Peter's list of people who were with Voldemort during the first war and got off by pleading _imperius_ curse. Coincidentally, he's banned from visiting a significant group of countries, including the US, along with a number of… former colleagues." Evie turned to look at him. "...We may wish to do something about this if we get a chance."

Harry thought about that a moment. "What did you have in mind?"

"At the moment? Nothing." Evie looked unhappy at the thought. "The ICW would stonewall anything really significant, as Britain practically controls them, and the British Ministry is rotten to the core."

"What government isn't?" Harry shot back.

"Not this bad," Evie clarified. "The point is, _legally_ , we can't do anything at the moment. However, you're the Boy-Who-Lived. That gives you significant political power… after you get old enough to actually use it."

"No…" Harry groaned. "Not politics!"

"You don't have to," Evie admitted. "It's possible just turning your back on Britain would be enough to shake things up. It's why Fudge was so interested in your future. He's fairly desperate to keep you in Britain."

"You're hurting me, Evie," Harry complained. "This is seriously like some sort of kryptonite."

"Meanwhile, the Americans are hoping you do chose to leave Britain so they can hold something over the heads of British politicians and possibly even the rest of Europe, and take the place of world leader," Evie continued, ignoring Harry. "It's likely you'll be getting a lot of interest from a lot of covens this summer, hoping to use your membership to make them stronger in the AMC. It's quite likely that whichever coven you choose will end up controlling most of the magical _world_. If you do choose to go that route."

Harry was flopped over a table, making gurgling sounds.

"And to think you're going to choose the next leader of the magical world," Evie said dryly. "The maturity you display is astounding."

Harry rolled over, still mock dying, to fall to the floor.

 **HP/RGB**

"I have a brilliant idea!"

Hermione, half asleep after a long day of exams, jerked awake, the book on her chest falling to the floor. "Oh my God, are you bored?"

Harry grinned wildly. "Maybe. A little. Why do you ask?"

"Because that's when you get all of your worst ideas," Hermione said, as though it were obvious. (It really was.)

"You mean my best ideas," Harry countered. "The Forbidden Forest was fun, wasn't it?"

"We really need to discuss your definition of that word," Hermione groaned.

"What, 'forbidden'?" Harry asked.

"That one too," Hermione revised, thinking of their trip to see the cerberus. "But I was thinking of the word 'best'."

"Does that mean you're not coming?" Harry asked, giving her puppy dog eyes.

Hermione squinted at him a moment, mentally calculating the chance of him giving up anytime soon. "Ugh. I'm going to regret this."

"Yay!" Harry cheered, clapping his hands. "Now I just need to find Evie! Take a nap and be ready to go after lights out!"

"Definitely going to regret this," Hermione sighed, reaching down to pick up her book. She was going to take a _long_ nap.

 **HP/RGB**

" _Hermione!_ "

Hermione rolled over, intent on continuing to sleep.

" _Hermione!_ "

Finally, the jabbing at her shoulder woke her enough. She jerked to the side, glaring up at Harry's face. " _What_?!"

" _Time to get up,_ " Harry whispered. " _We're going_."

Hermione blinked, brain trying to catch up with what was going on. It took her a moment to remember what Harry had said earlier. "...Oh. right." She looked around before realizing something. " _Are you in the girl's dorms?_ " she hissed.

" _Yes, and let me tell you, the runic scheme locking them to boys is a beaut_ ," Harry informed her cheerfully. " _Very tricky to bypass. But let's get going. We have a mission to go on!_ "

With a sigh, Hermione did pull herself from the bed, thankful she hadn't undressed earlier. Seeing her dressed, Harry grabbed her hand and practically dragged her from the dorm and down the stairs.

"You have a very powerful grip," Hermione informed him, rubbing her hand gingerly. Evie was sitting in one of the chairs, in a Ghostbusters uniform, looking excited (or, about as excited as Evie ever got). "Where are we going?"

"Forbidden corridor on the third floor," Harry said cheerfully. "We're going to see what's through the trapdoor."

Evie patted the boombox on her lap in agreement, Hermione only just realizing what it was and what its presence signified.

"Okay, we definitely need to address your definition of the word forbidden," Hermione sighed, before a thought occurred to her. "Wait a moment. Why did you come to wake me up? Why didn't you send Evie?"

"Because Evie was holding the boombox," Harry said, as though it were obvious.

"Then why didn't you hold the boombox?" Hermione returned.

"Because I was waking you up," Harry explained. "Come on, Hermione, I know you're tired, but please try to keep up, here."

Hermione shot him a deadpan look.

"Right, to the third floor!" Harry cheered, opening the wall and heading out.

With a sigh, Hermione followed Evie through the wall.

"How did you even get that thing to Hogwarts?" she asked Evie as they walked, looking at the large boombox.

"I put it in my pouch with the rest of my ghostbusting gear," Evie answered.

"And it _fit_?" Hermione asked, slightly incredulous.

"We keep proton packs, slime blowers, numerous traps, and a variety of rare books in there," Evie pointed out. "Harry even has a flamethrower in his pouch. Is this really the one object you choose to take an issue with?"

"Well, when you put it like _that_ ," Hermione sighed. She wasn't even going to ask why Evie was now physically carrying it, instead of removing it when they got to the corridor.

They made the trip to the third floor with little fanfare. Harry hummed a song under his breath the whole way. Hermione managed to keep from strangling him. Somehow.

Reaching the door, Harry again was the one to unlock it, with his memorized Sumerian door opening phrase. Evie shared a glance with Hermione as he did so, Hermione looking like she was failing to hide a grin, Evie just raising a single eyebrow.

And then they saw what was through the door.

" _Urbat_ ," Harry cursed.

Inside, the cerberus lay on the ground, fast asleep. In the corner of the room, a harp stood, silent.

"Shit," Evie agreed. She set the boombox just inside the door as the ears of the cerberus began to twitch. She hit the play button, and a gentle lullaby filled the room. The creature quickly settled back down.

"Who do you think it is?" Hermione asked.

"Ten bucks says Squirrel," Harry said sourly. "I was hoping for puzzles and mayhem tonight, not an exorcism."

"I have salt," Evie offered helpfully.

"Yeah, me too," Harry sighed. "Well, I suppose it can't be helped. Let's go do something dangerous."

"Your mum is going to kill you," Hermione commented quietly as they entered the room.

"Oh, I know," Harry said sourly, thinking of the brief but angry lecture he'd received for the horcrux thing. "I was hoping it'd be worth it. This is kind of a let down."

"What part of diving down a potentially dangerous trapdoor is a let down?" Hermione demanded as Harry easily slid the paw of the cerberus from the trapdoor, using kinetic magic.

"You know, you do have a point," Harry admitted thoughtfully. Evie threw the door open, and all three peered into the darkness below.

"...Who's first?" Hermione asked.

"Do you know any kinetic magic to ensure you don't splat on the stone floor several floors below?" Harry asked.

"No," Hermione frowned, not quite processing the meaning behind that statement.

"Then no complaining when I do this," Harry said cheerfully, before dropping through the hole.

"Idiot!" Evie near snarled after him. The cerberus twitched in its sleep.

"What?" Hermione asked, looking up at her in surprise.

Evie held out a runestone, before pouring a small amount of magic into it, causing it to light up with a bright glow, casting strange shadows in the dimly lit room.

"...Oh," Hermione realized.

As Harry yelped below and then cursed, Evie let the stone fall from her hand, dropping through the hole, illuminating the walls below.

Suddenly, the bottom of the hole lit up, before the stone got there, and both could see Harry standing and shooting flames at a vine around him that actually moved from the flame.

"Devil's snare," Evie realized, before Harry yelped again.

" _Fuck, Evie, you didn't have to drop your goddamned runestone on my head!_ "

"Not apologizing!" Evie shouted back, before frowning towards Hermione. "One moment… _Nusku suqallulu maqatu_." **(3)**

Before Hermione could puzzle that one out, Evie shoved her down the trapdoor.

"Oh my, _God_ , Evie!" Hermione cried as she fell, before realizing she was falling at a rather sedate pace. That must have been the spell. She was still going to kill Evie for that later.

Hermione hit the ground without too much trouble, to find Harry using his flamethrower to eradicate the last of the Devil's Snare. Next to him, Evie's runestone, still glowing, lay on the ground.

"I take it all back," Harry said cheerfully, as a slightly shell shocked Hermione stared at him. "This is a lot more fun than I thought."

"You know, the light would have driven the plant away," Hermione said dryly. "You didn't need to incinerate it."

"Yes I did," Harry returned, still cheerful.

Evie dropped to the ground next to them, just as lightly as Hermione had. "That would be, I believe, a challenge involving Creatures and a challenge involving Herbology. I posit that there is a challenge for each of the main courses at Hogwarts."

"Only one way to test that hypothesis," Harry pointed out, heading for the only exit to the circular pit they were in, already heading towards it. Evie and Hermione followed, Evie picking her runestone up as she passed it.

"Does Care of Magical Creatures count as a main course?" Hermione wondered.

"It may actually be a substitute for history, as I doubt Binns would be able to create an adequate protection," Evie mused. "He is only a class two repeating shade."

"Point," Harry agreed. "Though from what I understand, with that curriculum, I have no idea how that's even labelled a core class. And with the way Defense apparently jumps around year to year-"

"Not that you care, since you never _go_ -" Hermione broke in.

"I can care about the ignorance of my fellow students without attending the class-" Harry returned.

"Sh!" Evie hissed to the two of them. "Do you hear that?"

Both fell silent, listening.

"Wings," Harry determined after a moment. "Like, insect wings. Any blips?"

Evie checked the PKE meter hanging at her hip. "No. Wait- there's something farther ahead, but nothing in the next room."

Harry nodded, hefting the flamethrower again. If he didn't need to, he wasn't going to swap it out for the proton pack.

Despite his thought pattern, Evie removed and strapped on her own pack. She flicked it on, and, holding her glowing runestone high, followed her cousin down the corridor. The least well armed, Hermione, brought up the rear.

Harry was on guard as they entered the next room, but relaxed as he realized that there were not actually insects… or anything trying to attack them.

"Keys?" Hermione asked. "That's… unusual."

"Not really," Harry and Evie both said together. They had a rather different standard of normality.

Harry crossed the room and tried the far door. "Locked."

Hermione's eyes fell on several older broomsticks lying against the wall. "So, what, are we supposed to fly up and catch the key to the door?"

Evie dug out her runestone allowing her to see the magic in the room. She squinted at the brightness. "I see they've warded against summoning the keys. The door's warded against destructive spells and unlocking charms, and it's been strengthened to prevent someone breaking through physically. But… I believe they've missed something."

Harry stepped back and gave a little mocking bow towards her. "Feel free, then. If it doesn't work, though, I claim the chance to field test the Ecto-6."

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose. "...You keep that in your pouch, don't you." It wasn't a question.

Harry looked surprised. "Where else would I keep it?"

Hermione looked skyward, deciding it wasn't worth it.

As they spoke, Evie had pulled a knife from her runestone pouch and crossed to the door. She leaned over it with a frown, thinking, before swiftly carving several runes on the door. When it was done, she tapped her chin, considering how best to activate it: she could do it with or without blood, but doing it with blood meant she'd use less magic in the activation, and they weren't sure what was still ahead. Deciding, she pricked the tip of her finger, brushed it across the runes, and activated the cluster.

The door burst into flames.

"Wood remains a poor carving medium," she informed the other two, returning the knife to her pouch. "Does anyone have a bandage?"

Harry pulled a Band Aid from his pocket and proudly offered it.

"Thanks."

Evie unwrapped it, shoving the paper in her pocket and wrapping the bandage around her finger.

Hackles rose again as they crept into the next room, everyone holding tight to their various weapons.

They got three steps in before flames rose around them, revealing that they were standing on a massive chess board.

Hermione was the first to realize: "We have to play our way across the room!"

"Not _chess_!" Harry groaned. "Why chess? Why did it have to be chess?"

Evie holstered her thrower, eyes lighting up at the sight. "Harry, you're king. Hermione, take the queen position. I'll be a rook."

Hermione took a step towards the queen before faltering. "A what?"

" _Castle_ ," Evie amended flatly.

"...Ah."

The three took their spaces. Hermione stood bouncing slightly on the tips of her feet. Evie stood firmly, studying the board and thinking carefully. Harry laid down on his square and took a nap.

Hermione shot an incredulous look at him before deciding to yell at him later, because Evie probably didn't need the distraction. She was studying the other side.

A pawn moved two spaces forward. Hermione swallowed nervously.

"...E7 to E6."

The game began.

To be honest, Hermione was not a chess player. Intellectually, she knew how to play. That didn't mean she was any good at it, or even interested in becoming good. All she knew was that the next ten minutes were the most terrifying of her life so far. Worse than the cookie invasion, even (and that had been pretty terrifying) because she couldn't _do_ anything.

Harry still hadn't moved.

Finally, after a ten minute game, Evie had her remaining knight take the opposing team's king. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief, and immediately ran to Harry.

And kicked him in the side.

"Harry! What do you think you're doing?!"

"...Napping?" Harry said groggily, waking quickly to roll away from Hermione.

"We were just in a chess game for our lives!" Hermione shouted. "Why on earth would you think it was a good idea to take a _nap_?!"

"Because Evie put me in the king position because she wasn't planning on moving me," Harry frowned. "Because chess games bore me and she knew I'd probably take a nap."

"What?" Hermione asked, looking towards Evie, approaching at a slower pace.

"That's true," Evie agreed. "I put him in a position unlikely to need to be moved."

"And you could just sleep through that?" Hermione demanded.

"Well, yeah," Harry frowned. "I trusted Evie to get us all through. She's an excellent chess player. Now, if she'd needed to throw a curveball…"

Hermione deflated, anger fleeing. Some part of her wondered at how much trust had to exist between the two for that to be able to happen and neither to be upset at the other. Another part was jealous of that trust. She shoved that part away.

"...Oh."

"So, we're cleared?" Harry asked, pushing himself up.

"Doorway's opened," Evie agreed, nodding at the other side. The chess pieces that had previously blocked the way had moved aside.

"Let's do something fun, then!" Harry cheered, charging ahead.

Evie, shaking her head, followed. Hermione trailed behind.

At the door, Harry froze.

"What is it?" Hermione asked.

"That smell," Harry answered. "It's troll."

Evie drew her thrower. Hermione fell silent, and moved behind the two people with weapons that would actually hurt it.

Carefully, moving slowly, the edged forward.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he caught sight of the troll. "Clear. Troll's unconscious."

It was in the corner of the room, a patch of blood on its head. It snored deeply.

And stank. It stank awfully.

The three moved quickly across the room and through the far door.

The next room, as soon as they got a few steps in, lit up, in much the way the chessboard did. But this time the flames were a thick purple, cutting them off from the door they'd just passed through. On the other side of the room, black flames rose, making it impossible to get to the door.

In the middle of the room sat a low table, with seven bottles sitting on it in a line. A roll of parchment lay next to them.

Evie walked forward with purpose, looking like she was making a beeline for the table… until she walked around it and headed for the far side, focused completely on the flames. " _Fascinating_."

Hermione watched her, as though she was crazy. She, instead, stepped to the table, Harry next to her, and picked up the parchment. With a frown, she read the message on it.

" _Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,_

 _Two of us will help you, whichever you would find,_

 _One among us seven will let you move ahead,_

 _Another will transport the drinker back instead,_

 _Two among our number hold only nettle wine,_

 _Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line._

 _Choose unless you wish to stay here forevermore,_

 _To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:_

 _First, however slyly the poison tries to hide,_

 _You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;_

 _Second, different are those who stand at either end,_

 _But if you would move onwards, neither is your friend;_

 _Third, if you see clearly, all are different size,_

 _But neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;_

 _Fourth, the second left, and second on the right,_

 _Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight._ "

There was a long moment of silence.

"Well," Harry said after the pause. "That's different."

"It's a logic puzzle," Hermione said, eyes flicking between the bottles. "That's brilliant. Most wizards don't have an ounce of logic between them."

"Well, it's not so bad stateside," Harry told her. "But that's a really cool puzzle, nonetheless. It even rhymes!"

"Yes," Evie commented dryly from across the room. "Because that's how to measure the worth of a brain teaser. Whether or not it _rhymes_."

"No, that's how you measure the worth of the writer," Harry snarked back. He paused, peering at the parchment again. "Who do you think wrote it?"

"Likely Professor Snape," Evie offered.

"This puzzle sucks and so does he," Harry recanted immediately.

"You have such a high opinion of him, don't you," Hermione deadpanned.

"It's probably higher than Evie's," Harry shot back.

"Probably true," Evie agreed.

"Okay, back to the puzzle," Hermione said, shaking her head. "It's clever, but…" Her eyes flicked across the assembled bottles again. "This one." She pointed to the smallest bottle. "This one sends you forwards, and… this one backwards."

Harry picked up the little bottle and swirled it around, holding it up to the light to get a better view. "That's what I thought."

Hermione blinked at him. "Really? Why?"

"It's half empty," Harry explained. "None of the others have been drunken from, and we know someone else has come through already."

"...That's well reasoned," Hermione admitted. "And we haven't come across them yet, so logically, they have to have already been through here and gone on."

"Exactly," Harry agreed. "The only problem is, there's only one dose of potion here."

"That's not good," Hermione frowned.

"No, it's not," Harry agreed.

"Is this where you try and do some self sacrificing thing to go on alone?" Hermione asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Of course not," Harry said, giving her a wide eyed innocent look. "I'd never break the number one cardinal rule of ghostbusting: Never go alone."

"Of _course_ not," Hermione agreed, voice dripping sarcasm.

"Evie, what have you got?" Harry called, ignoring her.

"This," Evie said, from where she had ended up next to the wall near the flames. She drew her knife, and, in one quick motion, slashed it across something Hermione couldn't see. Immediately, the flames vanished.

"Impressive," Harry declared, setting the bottle of potion back on the table.

"A runic cluster," Evie explained, tapping a finger on the wall. "I just disrupted it."

"Makes life easier," Harry decided.

"Also, I have to say that I believe I was correct," Evie added. "We've passed a challenge for Creatures, Herbology, Charms, Transfiguration, Defense, and Potions."

"What was Defense?" Harry frowned.

"I think that was the troll," Hermione mused.

"Then what was Creatures?" Harry asked.

"That was the cerberus," Hermione reminded.

"Right, forgot about the cerberus," Harry agreed. He paused a moment. "...What was Transfiguration?"

"The giant chessboard," Hermione told him.

"Really?" Harry asked, looking surprised. "I would have thought Charms for that."

"No, the animation is something used in Transfiguration," Hermione explained. "So someone can transfigure a non-living creature from something and then animate it."

"That… makes sense," Harry allowed. "So then the keys were Charms?"

" _Yes_ ," Hermione sighed.

"Got it." Harry looked towards the far door. "So… That would mean that we've beaten all the challenges. If Evie's hypothesis was correct."

"If," Evie agreed.

"Well, I don't think Creatures is a core class," Hermione frowned. "There could be a challenge for all the classes."

"I'm not sure how they'd weaponize ' _Muggle Studies_ ', Harry pointed out. "Or divination, for that matter." He paused. "Though I'd love to see them try." **(4)**

"I'd love to see the rune challenge," Evie added.

"But didn't we agree that the cerberus might be a History challenge, not a Creatures one?" Harry asked. "That would mean all the core classes."

Hermione considered that. "Okay. I guess that means Evie's right."

"Technically, none of this proves or disproves my hypothesis," Evie frowned. "We've found a correlation, yes, but no proof of causation."

"What?" Harry asked, looking lost.

"We have correlation, but that doesn't equal causation," Evie repeated. "It's a situation most often found in statistics that explains that just because two variables seem to fit together doesn't mean that one causes the other. For example, did you know that in the early elementary years, students have higher or lower grades based on their astrological sign?"

"That can't be true," Hermione frowned. "That's ridiculous."

"It is true, though," Evie said. "The problem with such an example is that at first glance, it appears that the astrological sign determines the student's academic prowess. However, there is a hidden variable-an underlying cause for the correlation: age. Students born earlier naturally learn much better at first, as they are older. However, as they move through the grades, the discrepancy vanishes."

Hermione blinked. "That… actually makes sense. Just… astrological sign? Really?"

"Interesting, isn't it?" Evie asked. "Similarly, did you know that the more firemen that are dispatched to a fire, the more damage is done to the property? Or that the more ice cream is sold in a given time period, the more prevalent drowning is?"

Hermione looked rather aghast at the thought. "But that makes no sense!"

"The more firemen dispatched to a fire, the worse the fire is," Harry sighed. "And ice cream sales and drowning rates both go up in the summer and down in the winter. There are a lot of ridiculous correlations out there… Which is why I _hate_ statistics! Can we please get back to the challenges?" **(5)**

"Yes, sorry," Hermione said, giving him a smile. "It's just interesting-"

"No it's not."

"-and I do want to hear more about it later," she finished, shooting Harry a scowl at his comment. "Not everyone's allergic to learning."

"Time to go, then," Harry agreed, stepping to the door, holding tight to his flamethrower. Evie once again drew the thrower of her pack, and Hermione clutched her wand.

All three exchanged glances as they took a steeling breath.

And then Harry opened the door.

 **AN: AND SO WE APPROACH THE CLIMAX OF BOOK ONE. I wonder how actually climatic it will be...**

 **Okay, the actual notes!:**

 **(1) Harry remains the only person with the near super human ability to drive Hermione to attempted murder. This amuses Evie. Most of the time.**

 **(2) Magical Department of Police. The American Auror equivalent.**

 **(3) Invocation, suspend, fall**

 **(4) A Muggle Studies challenge would involve completing an electrical circuit to unlock the door without overloading it with magic. A disproportionate number of British Wizards would fail it. A Divination challenge would involve bullshitting your way through. Though I'm not exactly sure** ** _how_** **.**

 **(5) This is all true. It's also why** ** _I_** **hate Statistics.**

 **That's all of them for this time. Not a... not a lot of notes. I think I'm out of practice. Eh, if you're confused on anything, feel free to leave it in a review. I'll probably get back to you in a timely manner. Probably. Thanks for reading, either way!**

 **Next time: A shot is missed, and Evie steals a Philosopher's Stone. (Sort of.)**


	15. Chapter 14

**HA HA HA HA HA, I HAVE DELIVERED A SHORT TURN AROUND! You may now appreciate the amazingness of what I have just done. Unfortunately, it's probably going to be a bit before this is continued, but it does have a semi-satisfying conclusion that is not a cliff hanger, so there's that.**

 **I do plan to continue this. I really do. I have things sort of plotted out. I'm just having trouble with details, and getting to those points, plus other things distract me easily, and, well... I'm pretty sure you all know how THAT goes.**

 **THAT BEING SAID. I just need to take a moment of reflection. I can't believe that I started this two years ago on a whim. Because it was a challenge hanging out on the internet. I seriously thought it would be this little slice of life story, maybe 10,000 words max. Two years and 100,000 words later... I've finished year one. That's... kind of a terrifying realization. Thanks to everyone who's been sticking with me through this, and I hope you'll continue to do so as we (very slowly, no doubt) go on.**

 **Regardless, without further ado, let's get on with the story!**

 _Chapter Fourteen: In Which A Shot is Missed And Evie Steals a Philosopher's Stone (Sort of)_

It was Quirrell.

Of course it was. When had Winston ever been wrong when it came to mysteries?

Hermione opened her mouth, presumably to say something, but Harry clamped a hand over it before any noise escaped.

They stood frozen a minute, but Quirrell was clearly more interested in the large, ornate mirror that stood in front of him. He paced in front of it, muttering to himself.

Silently, Evie and Harry exchanged a glance. Harry raised a hand and held up three fingers.

Evie scowled in response, holding up two.

Harry shook his head and gestured with the three fingers again. He tilted his head towards one of the pillars near the wall, then nodded towards Hermione.

Evie frowned, but nodded.

Harry took his hand from Hermione's mouth, made a shushing motion, then gestured towards Evie. Confused, but getting the idea she had to remain silent, Hermione followed as Evie took her arm and pulled her towards the pillar.

As soon as he was sure they were out of sight, Harry dramatically raised a hand to point at Quirrell. "Turban guy!"

Quirrell started at that, clearly not expecting the shout. "Potter?"

Harry made a show of considering things. "No, that's not it," he frowned, before lighting up and pointing again. "Squirrel!"

"It's _Quirrell_ , you imbecilic child," the man snarled.

"No, I don't think that's it, either," Harry mused. "Well, it doesn't matter. You're here, at the end of this-let's face it, pathetically easy-series of challenges, here to claim the prize. A stone, perhaps?"

Quirrell looked surprised a moment before schooling his expression. "Well, well, well, Mr. Potter, I am impressed. You know about the philosopher's stone, then?"

"What, seriously?" Harry groaned. "You've got to be kidding me. That was a total shot in the dark, really. Man, Papa Ray is _never_ going to let us live this down. He was the one who called philosopher's stone."

"I would have thought you'd have done more research," Quirrell admitted.

"Please," Harry snorted. "Research? Not my thing. That's Evie's thing. And the only thing we researched was the cerberus, and to be honest, that 'research' was more asking one of my dads. You really didn't have to bribe Hagrid with a dragon egg to get that info, by the way. Historically, nearly all cerberuses… cerberi? ...are calmed by music."

"I'd forgotten creatures were your specialty," Quirrell frowned. "But you never came to classes this year."

"No, because your class is pretty useless to anyone with a background in protecting themselves from creatures and a heavy dislike of wands," Harry said with a shrug.

"Yes, I'd heard you were a fan of dark magic," Quirrell agreed, eyes narrowing.

"Honestly, I just don't get the classification system," Harry admitted. "There's the whole 'this is dark' thing, and it's so _arbitrary_ \- hey, look, I do pick up big words!- and ultimately useless. I think there's more damaged caused by a refusal to teach the so called 'dark magic' than by teaching them. Not to say that there aren't things that definitely deserve the 'dark' classification, but overall…"

"An intriguing view from the boy meant to be the paradigm of the light," Quirrell mused.

"That's stupid," Harry told him immediately. "Seriously, I am one of the _least_ qualified people for that. This society places too much emphasis on their so called 'chosen ones' as a whole."

"I think we can both agree on the stupidity of the general population," Quirrell said wryly. "It's unfortunate that we've chosen different ways to try and stop it."

"Let's drop the pleasantries, then," Harry said, fiddling with the trigger of the flamethrower. "We both know you're here to get the philosopher's stone. We both know I'm here to stop you."

"And yet, you haven't attacked yet," Quirrell pointed out.

"And you haven't gotten the stone," Harry shot back. "Which implies that, for whatever reason, you can't. Yet, at least."

"No, but it's only a matter of time." Unbidden, Quirrell's eyes flicked back to look at the mirror in the center of the room. "As soon as I solve the puzzle of this mirror."

"Ah, yes, a puzzle," Harry smirked. "Those _are_ tricky, aren't they? Incidentally, what did you think of the potions challenge? Fun, wasn't it? Did you solve it?"

"I think the fact that I'm _here_ would be enough to answer _that_ , Potter," Quirrell drawled.

"Mm… you'd think so," Harry agreed. "But the question is, did you solve it? Or was it your… _friend_?"

It was only because he was watching so carefully that Harry was able to pick up on the slight stiffening of the shoulders, the caught breath, the rapid blink of being caught off guard. "I'm afraid I have no idea as to what you are referring."

"Bullshit," Harry accused. "It wasn't too hard to figure out it was you, you know? I mean, sure I thought it was Snipe-wait, no that's not right-"

"Well, Snape certainly plays the part," Quirrell smirked.

" _Snake_ , that's right," Harry agreed. "But he's been working here for quite a while, and he's always been creepy. On the other hand, you were a passable Muggle Studies ( _Anu_ , that's a terrible name) teacher until you went travelling and suddenly came back with a completely different disposition. Really, the only people you could possibly fool with that would be impressionable first years."

Quirrell raised an eyebrow at him.

Harry sighed. "...And most of the British Magicals. _Ilu_ , the rampant stupidity…"

"It certainly makes it easy to take advantage, though," Quirrell pointed out.

"That's not the point," Harry argued. "Well, it sort of is _a_ point, but it's not the point I'm trying to make here… Wait, what was I saying?" He paused a moment. "Right. The sudden personality shift. We were trying to figure out what could cause it, and the first thing to pop up in our suggestions was possession."

"That was _first_?" Quirrell asked dubiously.

"You do realize my dads are literally the _world_ experts when it comes to possession?" Harry pointed out. "It's not an exaggeration when I say they wrote the book on it. Well, rewrote the book at least. Several times over."

"That is easy to forget," Quirrell admitted.

"I _know_ , right?" Harry agreed, shaking his head with a grin. "Anyways, it was pretty easy to confirm possession especially with the unicorns being attacked. And then it was an educated guess that the possessor was Voldemort. And then came the question of what you were doing here. We weren't sure what was in the castle that was so vital you'd risk possessing a teacher and possibly tipping your hand so early (well, Voldemort, at least), but we knew it was hidden in this corridor, and from there, Papa Ray suggested a philosopher's stone. Now, it may not be confirmed, but that is a logical guess, wouldn't you say so? I'm impressed by how right we were, actually."

Quirrell scowled, opening his mouth to say something, when a hissing voice rang out.

" _The boy is clever… let me speak to him_."

Harry clapped his hands together, adjusting the flame thrower only slightly so he could hold it better. "Ah, he speaks!"

"Master, you're not strong enough!" Quirrell protested.

" _I… have strength enough… for this_ …"

Harry primed the flamethrower, standing ready as Quirrell slowly began to unwrap the large turban on his head. It took time, and it was almost dramatic, the way he drew off the final layer, giving Harry a good view of the _second face_ beneath.

" _Harry… Potter…_ "

" _Mursu ma urbat_!" **(1)** Harry cursed, almost instinctively shooting, before remembering that that would be a bad idea at the moment. Instead, one hand unobtrusively drifted downward to his pouch, slipping in and searching for what he needed. "Have to admit, I was not expecting that. Seriously. That… I think I'm going to be sick."

" _Do you see what I have become…?_ " Voldemort his, the red eyes glowing with malice. " _See what you have reduced me to…?_ "

"Well, _obviously_ , or I wouldn't be complaining about the whole 'going to be sick' thing," Harry snapped.

Voldemort laughed, a dark, creepy, airy sound. " _You still seek to defy me… so like your foolish parents…_ "

"Which set?" Harry asked dryly.

There was a pause. "... _James and Lily Potter…?_ " Voldemort said, looking slightly taken aback.

"Huh. Never knew them. Just, didn't know they were foolish, but that would certainly explain where I got it from." Harry tilted his head in contemplation. "I think the real question here is, is this a case of nature or nurture? Because while I may have picked it up from them, there's definitely the chance I got it from my dads, and I'm not sure there's a more foolish group of people on the planet… In a good way, of course."

" _Silence, Potter!_ " Voldemort hissed. " _Come forward!_ "

Harry toyed with the idea of being difficult but couldn't actually come up with a reason for not getting closer at the moment. At least, not with what they had planned. So, giving a dramatic sigh, he did so.

" _Look… into the mirror,_ " Voldemort instructed.

With a shrug, mostly because he was curious, Harry did so.

The image within was of him, several years older, standing next to Evie and Hermione. All three of them were in their Ghostbusters uniforms, looking cheerful. Harry had an arm slung over Hermione's shoulder as they both laughed about something. They seemed to be standing in some sort of office, and Harry could make out several important looking degrees on the wall. Most had Evie's name on them, but some had Hermione's, and a few even had his.

He couldn't keep the smile from creeping over his face before he abruptly yanked himself away, looking upwards. The mirror's inscription caught his eye.

 _Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi_.

That was all he need to see before he instinctively backed from the mirror. "Son of a… Is this the Mirror of _Erised_?! Who the fuck puts this kind of thing in a _school_?!"

Despite not saying anything, he could almost feel Hermione's confusion.

" _You have… heard of it, then?_ " Voldemort asked.

"Yes, I have!" Harry near shouted, fighting the compulsion to look back in the mirror. He was lucky: the image within was an achievable thing, which greatly lessened the urge to keep staring. "You are more than _welcome_ to keep looking for the stone, but I'm not having anything to do with that thing!"

" _Mr. Potter… I'm afraid you have no choice._ "

Quirrell abruptly spun to grab Harry by the arms and force him to stand in front of the mirror. Harry screwed his eyes shut, trying desperately not to look, his other hand flying up…

Quirrell yelped, releasing his grip as a handful of salt hit him in the face. Harry scrambled away with a curse: he'd wanted to hit Voldemort, but the angle had been wrong. Already, he reached for another handful of salt, spinning around, simultaneously bringing up the barrel of the flamethrower.

"Harry!"

Hermione moved from her hiding position in the shadows of the side of the room. Evie had cast a spell of invisibility of some sort to hide them while she worked on something involving carving runes along the edges of the room. As Hermione could offer very little help in that regard, she had been watching Harry.

Until it looked like Harry was about to get himself killed. Then she stopped watching and started acting.

In all honesty, Hermione knew very few spells that would come in handy in this sort of scenario. Most of her extracurricular reading on structured spells revolved around the more mundane, household type. In her defense, she wouldn't have guessed she'd have gotten caught up in some sort of life or death situation at the age of twelve.

Then again, she was friends with Harry and Evie. She really should have known better.

That being said, while she knew very few spells of that sort, Harry had been teaching her the basics of focus casting. Focus casting didn't require any structured spells, just a strong will, firm visualization, and power. As a twelve year old, Hermione may not have had a lot of the last one, but she had always been good at visualizing, and she was one of most stubborn people Harry had ever met. (And that was really saying something.)

Theoretically, focus casting requires no movement. However, it had long been pointed out that movement often could help people in their visualizing, and Hermione was no different. Her wand moved in a sharp downwards arch, throwing out a veritable _wave_ of magic.

Unfortunately, Quirrell was just fast enough to dodge.

Harry blinked when the magic hit the far wall, strong enough to carve a deep gorge into it. "Hey, watch where you point that thing!"

"Sorry!" Hermione called back, before being forced to dodge a spell of Quirrell's.

She watched Harry dive and roll under another barrage (and it always impressed her how nimble he could be with a massive pack of some sort strapped to his back) to fling another handful of salt at Voldemort's face.

Quirrell/Voldemort staggered backwards at that, screaming, as smoke rose from where the salt had hit.

Harry pushed himself to his feet, spinning to face the man, and shouting quickly, " _Nusku ebebu! Ebebu! Ebebu!_ " **(2)**

Quirrell jerked slightly at the spell, before snarling. "You think my master would be so easily stopped? By a few foreign words?"

Harry cursed. "Plan B!" he shouted, flipping on the flamethrower.

Hermione let out a shriek as Harry doused Quirrell in flaming liquid. Quirrell and Voldemort were both soon screaming as well, writhing in the flames, unable to get away.

"I'm not done!" Evie hollered, running from behind one of the pillars, proton pack on and thrower in hand.

"Then don't miss!" Harry yelled back, before gesturing furiously at Quirrell. " _Nusku shurpu! Shurpu! Shurpu!_ " **(3)**

Voldemort howled, dark smoke rising off of the back of Quirrell's head as it seemed to _stretch_ \- Hermione nearly threw up at the sight- and finally pulled free.

"Evie!" Harry cried as Quirrell's body dropped like a stone.

Evie's thrower was already up, and she fired a glowing proton stream at the smoky form that erratically moved about the room.

It missed.

Evie cursed as she brought the thrower up for a second shot. Nearby, Harry dug in his pouch for his own thrower.

Neither were fast enough. The entity passed through the wall, just in time to dodge Evie's second shot, which splashed destructively against the stone of the room.

" _Isatum ma ditallu!_ " Harry snarled angrily. "You missed!" **(4)**

Evie slowly lowered her thrower, reaching for the PKE meter. "...He's gone."

Harry cursed again.

"Harry," Hermione croaked, eyes on the still burning Quirrell. "What… what just happened?"

Harry took a deep breath, trying to reign in his temper. "We went into this knowing Quirrell was likely possessed. Our first attempt was to have Evie ward the whole room with a basic soul trap, to allow us to capture the possessor without it escaping. Unfortunately, that takes time. I was distracting Quirrell while she set that up, but when he tried forcing me to use the mirror there, it became too dangerous. I attempted a basic cleansing with the salt, but it wasn't strong enough. I had to switch to fire."

"But what about Professor Quirrell?" Hermione asked, still looking ill.

"He's been dead since the possession," Harry said quietly. "That's the nature of this type. It kills the host. All I did was free his soul."

Somehow, this didn't make Hermione feel any better.

"See, salt is a cleanser," Harry continued. "It's great for a basic purification, but it's not as strong as something like fire. Fire is the ultimate purifier."

"Another excellent reason to carry a flamethrower," Evie observed, tone somber as she looked at Quirrell's body. It was still on fire.

"Should we put it out?" Hermione asked, raising her wand.

Evie, as the closer one, was the one to put a hand on her arm, causing her to lower it. "That would be ill advised. Right now, the fire is cleansing the dark spells."

"I thought you didn't believe in dark spells," Hermione pointed out weakly.

"There's dark, and then there's _dark_ ," Evie said cryptically.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Hermione admitted.

"I wouldn't blame you," Harry told her. "Seeing this kind of thing… The first time I saw something like this, I had nightmares for a month. It was a creature called a Preta. Usually they're pretty benign, so my dads had no reason not to let me tag along, but… See, Pretas are basically the dead come back to life, starving for something. It's typically something weird, like…"

"Feces," Evie offered.

"Sure, yeah," Harry agreed. "Weird, but ultimately not very dangerous. This one was… not benign. It ate human flesh."

"Like some sort of zombie?" Hermione asked, looking curious in spite of herself.

"Something of the sort," Harry nodded. "They got me out of there pretty quick when they realized what was going on, and none of them were injured, they're used to fighting things like that, and Pretas aren't too dangerous if you know what you're doing. The only real trouble is finding them: they're invisible to the naked eye."

"Ecto-goggles?" Evie asked.

"Probably, but I wasn't there," Harry reminded. "They hustled me out the door when they found an invisible creature eating a person alive. They caught it, but not in time to save the guy."

Hermione held a hand to her mouth in horror.

"Not everything out there is friendly, Hermione," Harry continued. "I mean, yeah, we're pretty lighthearted about these kinds of things, but that's only because the alternative…"

Hermione decided she hated that that actually made a twisted sort of sense. And it explained a lot about Harry.

"We can't always save everyone," Harry concluded. "The only thing that makes me feel better about this is that Quirrell knew what he was getting into. That's a lot better than some people."

There was a long pause as they processed that. Finally, Hermione nodded. "I can accept that."

"Good," Harry said, looking a lot more cheerful. "Now all we have to do is figure out how much we're charging Hogwarts for getting rid of a possessed professor." He paused. "And the soul trap. We should really get rid of the soul trap."

"Actually," Evie mused, "I had an idea about that…"

 **HP/RGB**

"For the record," Harry panted, straining to push the heavy mirror, "when I said we should get rid of the soul trap, this isn't exactly what I had in mind."

"I guessed," Evie said dryly.

"I'm just happy for something else to focus on," Hermione admitted, determinedly not looking at the charred corpse nearby. She was really happy Evie knew an air freshening spell, or else she'd have been sick at this point.

Instead, all three were struggling to force the Mirror of Erised into Evie's mokeskin pouch. It was stretchy, yes, but apparently a full length mirror was testing the limits of its opening.

"Angle it upwards," Harry told Hermione, who was holding the bag. "A little more…!"

Finally, with a last heave, the mirror pushed inside. All three of them nearly fell into each other.

"Well, that will be fun to get out," Harry observed.

"I may need to revisit the runic matrix on the mouth," Evie murmured thoughtfully.

"Why do you want this thing, anyways?" Harry demanded. "Shouldn't it be destroyed?"

"It will be," Evie assured. "Just after I do an analysis on it for my daemonology class."

"What exactly is it?" Hermione asked.

"A soul trap," Harry explained. "An object that makes you want to use it, before draining you of your life energy. This particular one is a mirror that shows your heart's desire in it. It's very dangerous and _does not belong in a school_."

"Did any of this gambit of challenges belong in a school?" Hermione pointed out.

"...No," Harry allowed. "Though it was actually kind of fun."

"The real question is how we're going to get out of here," Harry mused, moving to the chamber door. "I mean, getting through the doors shouldn't be a problem-"

"But the long drop at the start might," Hermione finished.

"We could lift the brooms that were in the key chamber," Harry suggested. "Or maybe Evie has something in her bag of tricks for flight?"

" _If_ I were designing a new runic cluster for flight, this would hardly be adequate testing grounds," Evie argued. "And I'm not, so it's a moot point."

Harry tilted his head. "Then those anti-gravity type runes I saw you jotting on the chalkboards?"

"A new runic cluster for the heads of the slime blowers," Evie explained. "I think I can increase the range by thirteen percent."

"...I'm sorry I asked," Harry decided. He threw open the chamber door, allowing all three of them into the potions chamber. The flames blocking them from the other door flared up again, a bright purple. The black flames did not reappear.

It only took a moment of searching before Hermione identified the second rune cluster, this one linked to the purple flames. Evie easily dismantled it, and they headed into the troll chamber.

It was probably best for everyone that the troll was still unconscious. Especially the troll. (After all, it took a lot longer to sleep off a proton stream than a head wound.)

The chess board posed no threat. It had been designed to stop people from going further into the chamber, not leaving it. And the locked door on the other end no longer existed, so that was no hassle either.

The devil's snare had been incinerated, so it was simple to take two of the brooms from the key room and fly up the tall shaft. (Harry had insisted on using the Ecto-6. After all, he claimed, at least it looked like it had been made in the last century.)

Hermione grimaced the whole way up, but her practices on broomstick had helped steady her. She was in no danger of falling off. Harry went up first, to ensure Fluffy was still asleep. (As he was the one who was best at flying away.)

The boombox was still playing as Harry eased it from the room, before there was another brief wrestling match to shove it back into Evie's pouch. After that, all three (looking slightly worse for the ware and sooty from the remains of the devil's snare (though Harry would allow those who had to clean up to assume the soot came from the other source)) headed directly for the Headmaster's office.

"Hi," Harry told the gargoyle guarding the entrance. "Is Dumbledore up there?"

The gargoyle gave a slight nod.

"Cool," Harry said cheerfully. "I don't know his password or anything, but can you let him know that we really want to talk to him?"

The gargoyle didn't move.

"Look," Harry said, looking slightly frustrated. "We're not asking for much. But if you don't go get him, it's going to be a choice between a proton blast or a sliming when we get Slimer to come play messenger."

The gargoyle still didn't move.

"Okay, that's it," Harry decided, scowling. "I'm not in a patient mood. Evie, would you-"

He cut off when the gargoyle slid to the side.

"You didn't have to threaten it," Hermione frowned.

"We don't _know_ that I didn't," Harry argued immediately. They reached the top of the spiral staircase and Harry knocked loudly on the door.

"Enter!"

Harry opened the door and led them in, where Dumbledore sat at his desk, McGonagall, Snape, and Flitwick standing in front of the desk.

"Evening, all!" Harry greeted cheerfully. "Beautiful night, isn't it?"

"Mr. Potter," Dumbledore began, but Harry steamrolled right through his words.

"See you got the place fixed! Looks nice. Cluttered, I mean, but that's only to be expected, am I right? Evie feels bad about the door thing, by the way, she's been meaning to apologize, haven't you, Evie?"

"No," Evie said dryly.

"Well, I've been meaning to apologize that she had to do that, though it wasn't really my fault. Maybe I should just drop the subject then? I suppose the door is fixed, so it's not exactly a major issue…" Harry trailed off thoughtfully, seemingly completely focused on whether or not it was his responsibility to apologize.

Next to him, Hermione buried her face in her hands.

"Mr. Potter," Dumbledore repeated, this time with a little more force.

Harry jerked slightly at his name. "What? Right, that's me."

" _Mr. Potter,_ " Dumbledore said firmly, this time broking no interruptions. "Would you like to explain to me why the wards around the third floor corridor were triggered?"

"Well, I suppose that would be because we triggered them," Harry said thoughtfully. "Of course, the other guy triggered them first. The real question here is, if they were triggered, why on earth are you up here discussing it instead of at the third floor corridor seeing what did the triggering?"

Dumbledore looked surprised at the question, but before he could attempt answering, Evie was picking up.

"Harry is correct," she agreed. "What use are alarm wards if you ignore them?"

"Or what if a student just went through that door?" Harry wondered. "I mean, just think if a first year had stumbled into a cerberus! That could be a total disaster! Oh, _wait_ …"

"You're very lucky Harry and Evie are well trained in the handling of dangerous situations, sir," Hermione put in, finally finding her voice. "And it's not just the challenges down there I was referring to."

"Yeah, she means the possessed professor that had Voldemort growing out of the back of his head," Harry declared loudly. "By the way? Totally _not_ something students should have to deal with."

"Albus?!" McGonagall demanded, both she and Flitwick turning towards the headmaster.

"I did warn you there was something off about him," Snape offered, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else.

"There was no proof, Severus," Dumbledore sighed.

"Um, we had proof," Harry said, waving a hand in the air. "I mean, we've known he was walking around possessed since…"

"Not long after Christmas," Evie filled in.

"Not long after Christmas," Harry repeated. "And that was when we figured out about the philosopher's stone, too."

" _Albus!_ " McGonagall hissed. "How on earth did three students figure out something you swore to us was very well protected?!"

"That is something I'd like to know as well," Dumbledore agreed, fixing all with a fierce stare.

Harry smirked. "Papa Winston's always been good with mysteries." He let it stay there, saying nothing of Ray's shot in the dark or exactly how much of the mystery solving had been by him.

"...I see," Dumbledore frowned. "I must ask exactly what happened down there."

"We made the cerberus sleep," Harry listed, "burned the devil's snare to a crisp-should probably apologize to the Herbology professor for that (" _Sprout, Harry-_ ")-burned down the door in the key room, played across the chessboard, the troll was already knocked out, and we collapsed the wards around the potions room… only after we saw there wasn't enough potion for all of us to take to pass through the flames. Fairly simple stuff."

"Next time put the runic clusters on the other side of the flames," Evie suggested.

Snape scowled at that.

"You burned down the door in the key room?" Flitwick asked, bouncing on his heels excitedly. "Exactly how did you do that? It was warded against fire!"

"Evie overloaded it with a runic cluster," Harry shrugged.

"Wood is a poor carving medium," Evie recited.

"Clever!" Flitwick said approvingly. "Not what I expected at all!"

"And you must be a decent chess player to pass the chess room," McGonagall mused.

"I wouldn't know, I napped through it," Harry admitted. "Hermione was awake, though."

"I don't play chess," Hermione reminded.

Harry waved a hand dismissively. "Not the point. You saw the game, didn't you? It was good, right?"

"How would I know? I don't play chess!"

"Perhaps, Miss Spengler, you'd like to join me for a game some time," McGonagall offered.

"Perhaps," Evie said without emotion, leaving it open to interpretation.

"And what, Mr. Potter, happened to Professor Quirrell?" Dumbledore asked.

"Aha!" Harry accused. "You said you didn't know that one of your teachers was possessed!"

"I did not," Dumbledore agreed. "But Severus passed on several suspicions to me."

"Well, next time come to us," Harry sighed. "Seriously. It saves _so_ much trouble."

"Because you are an expert on possession, Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore countered, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, not to toot my own horn," Harry began, pointing at the name on his jumpsuit, "but _duh_. Ghostbuster, here. Kind of a required course."

Dumbledore looked slightly taken aback, as though he'd forgotten that.

"And Quirrell's dead," Harry finished. "Type three possession: he's been dead since Voldemort took up residence in his skull."

Hermione shuddered again at the remembrance.

Dumbledore looked horrified. "You have no remorse, Harry?"

"Don't call me that," Harry snapped, hackles raising. "And I wasn't the one to kill him. I was just the one to remind him he was dead. With a flamethrower."

"That's one ghost that won't be hanging about any longer," Evie mused. Out of sight of the professors, she slid a hand into Hermione's causing the grimacing girl to shoot her a grateful smile.

"Speaking of which!" Harry said, suddenly turning cheerful again. One hand dug in a pocket before he removed a folded piece of paper. "One exorcised vengeful soul, one soul trap removed from the premises, dangerous pre-existing conditions surcharge, charge for proton use, lack of structural damage surcharge… feel free to look it all over." He slid the paper across the desk.

Dumbledore frowned. "Mr. Potter-"

"Well, I think that's everything," Harry plowed on. "Time to go guys, do you think?"

"I think we've covered everything," Evie agreed.

"Mr. Potter, just what happened to the mirror in the final chamber?" Dumbledore pressed.

"The dangerous soul trap?" Harry asked. "It's gone. We've disposed of it."

Dumbledore shot to his feet. "Are you aware of-?"

"That there was something in it?" Harry asked. "The philosopher's stone? Yeah. But we weren't sure how to go about getting it out, so we just disposed of the mirror. Safer that way. Frankly, you shouldn't have had something like that in the school in the first place."

And then, without waiting for being dismissed, Harry led the way out of the office, whistling a cheerful tune.

 **HP/RGB**

"Admit it," Hermione accused. "You just like being difficult."

"There's a certain appeal to it, yeah," Harry agreed, lounging out on the bench in their train compartment. It was empty apart from the three of them and Slimer, who had shoved himself up against the window and was staring out, making the occasional "ooh"ing sound, and randomly babbling.

The last few days of the year had been, according to Harry, "ridiculously boring". Oh, sure there'd been the lecture from Janine about charging off into dangerous situations while Peter had made faces in the background and shot thumbs up while managing to look complete contrite whenever she'd turned to look at him, and the request from Dumbledore that he should really look up his relatives while he was in the area had made him out right laugh (though he didn't remember much from those days, everything he did recall was rather unpleasant), but for the most part it had been a lot of sitting around and being completely bored.

Hermione had even asked Evie if there was anything she could do, but Evie had been mostly unhelpful, wrapped up in her own exams as she was. **(5)**

Luckily, she'd finished by the last couple days, and Harry had been drafted to help take apart the makeshift lab. She'd likely be using it again the next year, but didn't want to leave it alone over the summer. (It was quite likely that ignorant wizards would accidentally blow it up, after all.)

(Later, she would acknowledge that it was likely ignorant non-magicals could cause an explosion just as easily, but it was much less likely that they'd be around Hogwarts, and therefore, they were not nearly as much of a concern. That, and the fact that non-magicals generally learned proper safety procedures when it came to labs (along with enough common sense to not touch dangerous looking things (most of the Ghostbusters were exceptions to this)), which was much more than the usual British wizard could claim.)

So it was on the last day that Harry, Hermione, and Evie made the rounds to say farewell to those they considered more than passing acquaintances (and dealing with a sobbing Slimer who didn't quite grasp the idea that he didn't know these people and even if he did, he'd see them again in a few months) before finding themselves an empty compartment and claiming it as their own.

They'd likely not be disturbed; even the seventh years had enough common sense to steer clear of the "insane" trio.

Harry had taken the whole of one side of the compartment's seating to sprawl out on, drawing no reaction from Evie and amusement from Hermione, who felt like, after an entire year, she was finally getting a hold on how Harry operated.

Sort of.

"You realize that's going to get you into serious trouble one of these days?" Hermione asked, sounding more cheerful than annoyed.

"Probably," Harry agreed. "But I figure as a Ghostbuster, I'll get into trouble anyway. At least this way, I get practice in getting out of it."

"...That makes a shocking amount of sense," Hermione admitted.

Harry stretched. "Ah… I can't _wait_ for this summer. Cross country Ghostbusting trip, here we come!"

Hermione hid a smile at his enthusiasm. "About that…"

Harry tried to fake slumber, but a cracked lid betrayed his interest. "Yes?"

"I've decided. I'm going to join your team. I'm going to become a Ghostbuster."

That made Harry sit up straight. "You are? You're sure?"

"I…" Hermione took a deep breath, thinking of how terrified she'd been in the underground chamber, and how collected and calm both Harry and Evie were. And, to be honest, if she continued to be their friend, it was likely she'd end up in more scenarios not unlike it. She wasn't going to just sit back and not do anything. She was going to prepare, and the next time they got into something like that, she was going to be right there next to them. "I'm sure. Teach me to bust ghosts."

Harry rubbed his hands together excitedly. "Evie! We're going to have to get her a uniform! And a pack! And-"

"Breathe," Evie said, not looking up from her book.

"This is going to be awesome!" Harry cheered. "Are you coming with us on our trip then? I mean, from what I've heard, the RV isn't huge, but you'd be surprised with what they can do with space expansion charms, and-"

"Breathe," Evie repeated.

"I don't know anything about our summer plans," Hermione admitted. "I know Dad was talking about some sort of trip, but I never found out exactly what it was. It's probably another trip to France, though."

Harry snorted. "Don't know why you'd want to go there."

"The lack of ghosts?" Evie suggested.

"That's only if you're near the Eiffel Tower," Harry dismissed immediately. At Hermione's curious glance, he expanded upon that. "The Eiffel Tower is an old school primitive ghost trap and containment unit."

"Say _what_?"

"It started breaking down a few years back. The dads had to go and repair it. They also set it up so any ghosts captured get immediately beamed to the containment unit. Though there was a bit of an issue when they did it the first time. They kind of preempted the public television network to beam the ghosts there, and, well…"

"Five hours of ghosts screaming French curses were not well received by the general public," Evie explained, still not looking up. **(6)**

"God, Papa Peter was _so_ pissed about the fines they had to pay," Harry remembered. "I didn't know you were aware of it, Evie."

"Of course I was. It prevented me from watching a fascinating documentary on the life cycle of the Mountain Chicken." There was a pause as the other two looked at her in confusion. "It's a type of frog," she explained, glancing up at Charles, who had perched again on her head.

"Mum Janine wasn't pleased I learned eight new swear words," Harry recalled with a grin. "And proceeded to show them all off to her mother. Come to think of it, I haven't seen her mother since then, either."

Privately, Harry didn't think Janine was that sorry for an excuse to further sever ties. Her family wasn't particularly happy with both her status as a witch and her choice of profession.

It also said volumes that Harry referred to the woman as "Janine's mother" and not "Grandma".

"France is a wonderful place, and I haven't had any experiences of the ghostly sort there," Hermione sniffed. "Why you insist on disparaging a country you've never been to is quite beyond me."

"Come on, you're British!" Harry protested. "Aren't you supposed to hate the French or something?"

Evie seemed to almost frown at Harry for a moment before breaking out of whatever she was thinking about. "Regardless, I have been informed that Hermione will indeed be accompanying us on our trip, along with her parents. I understand her her father is quite eager to try a proton pack again."

"That sounds like Dad," Hermione sighed.

"I can't _wait_!" Harry cheered excitedly again. "Just think! The food! The fun! The ghosts!"

Slimer had unfortunately picked up on the word food and turned expectantly. " _Fwood_?"

"Not yet, Slimer," Harry sighed. "We'll get you something when the food cart-"

"Trolley," Hermione corrected.

" _Cart_ ," Harry repeated, "comes around. But you can't eat everything on it, okay, spud? Other people need to eat as well."

Slimer nodded eagerly, before turning back to the window.

"Do you know where we'll be going?" Hermione asked. "I'm rather excited to see different parts of the United States. It's supposed to be quite diverse, you know."

"We know," Harry and Evie chorused together.

"Yes, sorry, of course you would," Hermione sighed. "I forget sometimes."

"We'll have to show you Miskatonic if we get a chance," Harry realized. "And we should. Evie's got to stop by to drop off some of her research and talk to a few professors."

"We'll get to see Miskatonic?" Hermione demanded. "The premiere college for occult studies?"

"Yep," Harry agreed, beaming. "Evie's already attending, and I have a massive scholarship waiting for me if I decide to go there already."

"But you hate studying," Hermione argued.

"Yes, but they want to study me," Harry explained. "Product of being the one person in the world to survive the killing curse. There's a running pool of just what happened, apparently, but my dads have forbade all study until I'm old enough to actually make a choice."

Hermione couldn't decide if that was humorous or awful. She was leaning towards the former.

Choosing not to broach the subject, however, she instead focused on what was ahead. "Should be an interesting summer, though."

"Oh, the best!" Harry agreed.

Unfortunately, all further discussion on the subject was cut short when the trolley lady stopped by with her snacks and Slimer attacked the cart.

As it turned out, the year would conclude with Harry and Evie in a very similar situation to how they'd entered Hogwarts: covered in slime.

 **AN: Ah, the wonders of slime...**

 **(1) "Disease and Dogs of Death". Harry is just swearing.**

 **(2) "Invocation, purify." Harry is attempting a verbal exorcism. It... doesn't work.**

 **(3) "Invocation, purification through fire." (Yes, that's an actual word) Apparently it's harder to hold on to your possessee while being burned alive... Who knew?**

 **(4) You know what? If it's in Sumerian and I'm not translating it, Harry is swearing. Just go with that.**

 **(5) You know, the Miskatonic course work. The actual important exams.**

 **(6) "The Ghostbusters in Paris." Fun episode. With a fun ending.**

 **That's all the notes! Let me know if there are any questions or comments. Until next time!**

 **Next time: TBD**


End file.
